《Hands of Fate - Survivors of Flight AA214》


 Chapter 1

    Act 1 - Discovery


    Chapter 1


    Orion


    Day 1 of Landing


    Take care of Cass. The chanting of my mother¡¯s words echoed through my head as I spat sand out of my mouth. Take care of Cass. My face was buried in the sands of an unknown beach. Trying to get my bearings, I lifted myself onto my feet. Take care of Cass. I searched for my brother on the strange shore I had washed up on. I searched for anything. If I made it, others would make it. Behind me was a dark cloudy veil over a deep blue ocean. Before me, where the yellow sand met the forest, was a shoreline of rocky hills, flat grass beds, bamboo-like palm trees that reached for the sky, and wide flat-leaf bushes lining the forest¡¯s entrance like a grass fence. I reached for a clearing in the shrubs and trees and began yelling out into the forest for Cass.


    My younger brother had a habit of going off on his own, especially in open wilderness like this, despite our dire situation. There was a clearing into the forest and if I knew my brother, his curiosity would take him in there to look for insects and rocks.


    Take care of Cass.


    Relief came over me as I found a young man squatting down near the base of a small cliff five minutes from the beach sands and into the forest clearing. He was investigating the ground beneath and brushing aside dirt. His clothes, like mine, were wet and dusted with sand from the beach behind us. It wasn¡¯t his green army shirt or gold locks that gave him away but the fact that, despite being dumped here after a plane crash, the young boy was here of all places looking for rocks.


    ¡°Cass, thank god I found you. Whenever you can¡¯t find me I told you to stay put,¡± I sighed.


    ¡°Place has good rocks. Not like at home. Really neat rocks.¡±


    My brother¡¯s nonplussed response to our situation didn¡¯t surprise me in the least.


    ¡°Do you have your phone on you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No phone. No Switch either.¡± Cass continued walking down the base of the cliff, looking for more rocks. The ones he liked he put into the back pocket of his white cargo pants.


    ¡°Well, I guess Poseidon has them now.¡±


    ¡°Doubtful. Poseidon has more important things to do than play video games, Rye.¡± Cass picked up a diamond-shaped rock the color of ink and blankly nodded to himself.


    Not wanting to explain my joke, I continued talking. ¡°We need to look for other survivors. I¡¯m worried. Did you see anyone else come by here, Cass?¡±


    Now that my first concern of finding my brother had ended, my second and more important concern was starting to bubble up, the clear and present emergency of being stranded in unknown wilds.


    My younger brother shook his head. ¡°I doubt anyone survived. It¡¯s a miracle both of us even survived.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure someone¡¯s going to be looking for us,¡± I said to reassure him, though it felt more to reassure myself. ¡°What did you remember?¡±


    ¡°I was looking out the window. Lots of lights. Then I woke up on the beach and came here when I didn¡¯t see you. I was waiting for you, honestly,¡± Cass insisted.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go back to the beach. There might be boats or a rescue plane that will come to get us. They should be looking for us.¡±


    Cass shook his head. ¡°They won¡¯t find us, Rye, not here.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°These plants aren¡¯t anywhere close to the US. I saw driver ants near the rocks I was looking at. Though they were a different color.¡±


    ¡°And? You saw ants?¡± I asked wondering what he meant. He did know his ants.


    ¡°Driver ants live in Africa, Rye.¡±


    ¡°You might be mistaken.¡±


    ¡°I know driver ants, Rye. I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s say they are. Maybe they got introduced here by someone. I don¡¯t know. It doesn¡¯t make sense. How can we be in Africa when we were just over the Atlantic off of Florida for an hour?¡± I didn¡¯t want to believe my younger brother had a better grip of where we are than I did.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t in Africa,¡± Cass said, shaking his head. ¡°The plants don¡¯t match, it¡¯s not hot either. It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±


    ¡°I have an idea. Maybe we are on some billionaire¡¯s island off of Florida, and he imported all these plants and those ants here himself,¡± I said smugly.


    Cass considered and nodded to himself. ¡°It¡¯s possible...¡±


    ¡°So let¡¯s go back to the shore. They¡¯ll be looking for us,¡± I said.


    We made our way back the way I came from. I kept insisting my brother stick close to me every time he wandered off to examine a bug or a rock or a plant. Cass would constantly flip over logs and try to climb trees as we made our way back to the shore.


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    Cass picked up seashells he found on the beach while I sat on the grass watching over him and the coastline. When Cass got bored, he came over, and we passed the time playing tic-tac-toe in the sand and naming games. Every time I got bored, I would always have the urge to reach into my pocket for my phone to browse the web. Knowing my connection to the world was not there and I was unable to access my social media routine pages gave me a slight headache, and I experienced internet withdrawals as the minutes passed. Cass was constantly fidgeting or restless as well.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± Cass spoke up after what seemed like an eternity.


    ¡°Me too.¡± The sun was beginning to set in the sky. It would only be a couple more hours until nightfall. I was beginning to get worried. I wasted all this time instead of starting a fire or making shelter.


    ¡°Can you gather rocks and pile them in a circle on the beach? We need to make a fire. I¡¯ll find some food,¡± I said.


    Cass¡¯ face lit up with his chance to find rocks. After telling Cass not to stray too far from this area, I went back into the woods to gather tinder and dry wood. After bringing them back to the circle of stones that Cass had made, I instructed him to dig up a small pit and place the beach grass and wood I had found in the pit while I foraged the beach for oysters and mussels.


    Near the rocky flats of the beach, I saw blue birds with several white stripes running across their backs like a racing stripe picking at crabs and sandworms. Upon my approach, they made a screeching sound and flew off. I searched the area, and found a few mollusks wedged between rock formations. They looked like a hybrid between mussels and oysters but were the size of conchs. I picked a handful of them, dumped them into a crater and began to wash them with a rock I had found one by one. I brought them back to our makeshift campfire to see my brother smashing flint together to try to make a fire to no avail.


    I told him to step aside, and from the pile of wood that I had gathered, I brought out a few sticks. There were trees near the beach that had lengths of vines which I used to braid into a simple rope that I used to make a fire drill. My brother watched in awe as all the primitive crafting videos I watched on YouTube finally paid off as I raced to make fire before nightfall. When the wisps of smoke started to show, I placed the flaming tinder into the pit we made, and we had fire. I sighed in relief as Cass started dancing and clapping his hands and laughing maniacally.


    The mollusks I had foraged roasted over the open flame until they steamed and opened. Normally I would shuck them and eat them raw, but I can¡¯t be so sure with these species of oysters. I sniffed the piece of meat that came off the shell. I rubbed part of it onto my skin to see if I would have a reaction and then took a small bite. I told Cass to wait for a while before I served him his oysters. The liquor of the oyster seasoned the meat perfectly, and I ate the whole thing after a few minutes.


    Feeling no ounce of sickness, I roasted the rest of the ¡°oysters¡± and fed my brother half of them. It didn¡¯t completely drive away my hunger pangs, and I would have to find something more nourishing in the morning for us to eat.


    Cass took a bite of the last one left and grinned from ear to ear. ¡°That was so good. They were way better than what we had at that fancy restaurant at Disney World.¡±


    ¡°Could use a bit of hot sauce,¡± I said, shrugging.


    The flame flickered out. I tossed another piece of firewood on it. I guess we could just sleep on the grass by the beach for now. I¡¯ll have to figure out a shelter situation soon but thankfully the weather was mild and a few trees and bushes gave us meager cover. My brother was already on his back snoring loudly near the fire. As I was about to get up to reposition him to a place where the smoke wouldn¡¯t hit him, the flames suddenly extinguished.


    A void of cosmos surrounded me, and before me out of that void came a hooded figure in a dark robe. The specter sat on the end of a table facing me, its face covered in blackness. The specter¡¯s skeletal left hand reached into his right palm as he closed his hands together and he reached into the darkness in which his left hand disappeared and drew out one card from his palm and placed it before me.


    On the card was a painting of a man in a white hat with a butcher¡¯s knife and a leg of some beast in front of a giant pot, and behind him was a stone oven. At the top center was the letter C on it. At the bottom were the words ¡°Cook¡±.


    Before the specter drew another card, I got up and said, ¡°Where¡¯s Cass! Where the hell am I?¡±


    ¡°Sit,¡± The specter commanded in a deep croaking voice. ¡°The cards must be played.¡±


    Looking around, I saw nothing but vast empty space. I got off my chair and away from the table and its now lone figure and ran as far as I could screaming for my brother to no avail. Seeing a faint light in the darkness, I caught my breath and approached it with caution. Despite running in a straight line away from the table, I stared in dread as the specter and his table with the exact same cards played waited for me.


    ¡°The cards must be played.¡± The specter croaked.


    Feeling helpless, I sat.


    The specter drew three cards face down and pushed them toward my end of the table. The specter waited expectantly as I stared dumbfounded at it. As I flipped the card in the middle, the other two unfaced cards vanished into the table, consumed by the darkness.


    A man in armor with a chef¡¯s hat was engulfed in flames as he took a bite out of a flaming piece of meat. ¡°Soul Food¡± was the text read across the bottom and a single ¡°S¡± at the top. The card shimmered like an oil slick. Upon examination, the description of the card read:


    ¡°Food you cook bestows blessings on you and your familiar.¡±


    The card faded away in my hands, but instead of disappearing into the darkness, it disappeared into indigo light.


    Two more cards were drawn, and the specter drew them face up. One had an ¡°F¡± in the top right corner and a ¡°1¡± in the top left corner, with a man with a woven basket gathering wild herbs labeled ¡°Forager.¡± The other card had a ¡°C¡± in the top right and a ¡°1¡± in the top left corner, with a man holding a torch labeled ¡°Firewielder.¡±


    Again, the cards faded away in my hands. I looked carefully this time and noticed that the swirls of energy disappeared into my right fingertips. I watched as vessels of blue luminescence worked their way to my palms. I reached into my right palm and stared in horror as my left hand was swallowed by my right palm. My arms were in some type of ouroboros as the blue portal in my right palm consumed my left hand to the middle of my forearm. Inside, I felt a stack of cards and pulled it out of the void within---the same three that were drawn by the specter.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder,¡± the ghastly voice croaked inside of my head.


    The specter vanished, and in the next blink of my own eyes, the void disappeared and was replaced by a campfire, the dark nightscape of a familiar sandy beach, and the sound of my younger brother snoring before me. I was still holding four familiar cards that glowed in the dark: Cook, Soul Food, Forager, and Firewielder. I threw them into the campfire and watched as they disintegrated into blue wisps that were sucked into my palms.


    Damn. Looks like I¡¯m stuck with them.

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2


    Bianca - Day 1 of Landing


    When I awoke, I heard the guttural squawks of blue sea birds bickering back and forth. The tiny break of land I found myself on was near the shore of a forested coast devoid of civilization or any signs of life or wreckage. The sun was rising as I walked through the shallows to the beach. The sands of the beach reminded me of a mix of turmeric and specks of green crystal sprinkles mixed in. Some types of clams were planted in rows and opened every so often to extend their wormlike bodies out of their granite shells towards the salty sea.


    I tried to search for any signs of the plane wreckage or other human survivors on my travels across the sands, but nothing was on the beach except for shells, some driftwood, and seaweed. I walked what felt like miles down the beach and retraced my steps. When I got back near where I started, I found footprints that led to a clearing. The size of these footprints looked like they belonged to a child or at least a young girl. They led me to a clearing in the forest, and I followed them.


    In the dirt, the shoeprints looked like they were made by small sneakers, suggesting it must have been a young boy or woman with small feet who made them.


    Poor kid must be scared to death.


    It looked like he was traveling in circles with no aim or direction. I followed them to a stream where the footprints disappeared. Figuring he must have retraced his steps or gone back to the beach, I did the same, only to find myself lost in the woods with no sense of direction to get back to the beach.


    Wonderful, Bianca, just wonderful. First a plane crash, and now you are lost in the woods. I swear if some smoke monster comes out, this will be officially the worst day of my life. So far.


    It was pointless wearing myself out wandering around. I didn¡¯t venture that far from the beach. I just had to start marking the trail. I would make this my center point and venture out in each direction little by little until I finally saw the beach again.


    A trunk of a fallen tree a yard wide near a cave and a clearing was where I made my first landmark. I grabbed a few branches as markers and placed them in a four-point system. The cave was only a few meters deep, indented on a mossy hill. On the cave walls were specks of blue crystal and gray slab. The sun was directly above my head, and I slapped my forehead in frustration. I¡¯ll have to wait a while to see where it sets, and then I can get a good sense of east and west. Tomorrow I¡¯ll head out in one direction.


    I sat on the jagged floor of the cave for a few minutes before deciding it was uncomfortable. The bushes near the cave had leaves that looked like giant banana leaves shaped like green surfboards but attached to bushes with no bananas fruiting on them, and I gathered some to place on the floor of the cave. Once piled, they made an adequate flat place to lie down. My stomach growled.


    Why didn¡¯t the plane provide any food? I know it was a regional flight, but God forbid they give us some peanuts or something.


    There were some purple fruits on the trees near the cave, but I wasn¡¯t that desperate yet. Let¡¯s call it a diet. I can go a day or two without eating. Now water... That is another thing. I would need to get some soon. The plane was just off the coast of Florida. Were we in Florida or some island off of it? How can I even make a fire? I know you have to hit two stones together or use a match and some fallen branches or something.


    I tried to calm myself down, but as minutes passed, I started having a minor panic attack. No way to communicate. No phone. No internet. Lost in the woods after a plane crash. No humans anywhere. No water. No food. No toilets. Well, there was that, but... no toilet paper! A tear formed in my eyes, but I stayed strong.


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    Oh geez, look at you, Bianca. One hour without your phone and human interaction, and you are losing it. Get it together.


    Laughing hysterically to myself, I blinked away the tears, and the light from the cave entrance before me vanished. The coldness of the dark surrounded me. It wasn¡¯t a darkness of blindness or night but one of pure nothingness. As if I was surrounded by a completely black void like in an observatory, aware of everything, able to see my own body and hands before me and the distance, but unable to see anything on the horizon but dark cosmos. Instead of my throne of leaves, I sat on a crimson chair. The chair sucked me in like quicksand, making it difficult to stand up, though in my confusion, I had little inkling to do so. A hooded figure appeared before me, sitting in the empty chair, and I screamed.


    ¡°HELP!¡±


    ¡°Stay seated. The cards must be dealt,¡± the voice was soft and whispery. She, I assumed it was a she, reached into her palms and pulled out a card.


    The card read ¡°Founder¡± and had a single B on the top of it.


    Stunned and dumbfounded, I sat there looking at the card and the hooded figure blankly. The dealer pulled a deck of cards from her palms. The deck swirled and shuffled itself, and she placed three cards before me.


    ¡°Is this some kind of tarot reading? Where am I? Is this for YouTube or something? I don¡¯t get it.¡± I blurted one after another hysterically.


    ¡°Not reading, a playing. We are finding out who you are, not who you will be. That is up to you,¡± she said calmly.


    ¡°I¡¯m Bianca, what¡¯s your name? Look, if this is a prank, I don¡¯t consent. I¡¯m just a student, I¡¯m not that interesting. Please take me home,¡± I cried.


    ¡°The cards must be dealt,¡± the hooded card dealer reiterated.


    ¡°I¡¯ll play your game, but can I go home after?¡±


    ¡°You have not been taken away anywhere, holder, for this realm exists for you and in you,¡± she said.


    ¡°Where is this then? Florida? Am I still in the States? Look, I was on a flight back to New York, please,¡± I cried, tears welling in my eyes.


    ¡°The cards must be dealt.¡±


    ¡°If I pick a card, can I go home? Is this some magic trick prank or something? Please answer me.¡± I begged.


    ¡°I simply deal the cards, and the cards must be dealt.¡± Her flat calm tone angered me.


    ¡°FUCK YOUR CARDS!¡± I screamed. I got up from the chair and ran as far away from the ghost until it was no longer in my sight.


    When I found the hooded figure and table in the distance again, I wondered if I had run in a circle. I gritted my teeth and ran in another direction in a straight line.


    ¡°Look, this isn¡¯t funny!¡± I yelled.


    Again, in the distance, the only thing I found in the void was a hooded figure sitting at a desk in front of an empty chair. I sighed and accepted my fate.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll play your stupid game but I¡¯m suing whoever is behind this,¡± I picked the third card on the right and smacked it on the table.


    The shimmering card read ¡°Familiar: Golem¡± with a blank S on the top center. The description of it read: ¡°Builder Golem. Will assist in building structures and basic tasks.¡± Like dust on the wind, the card faded into my palms.


    Two more cards were dealt and placed before me. One read ¡°Tracking¡± with 1 marked on top, and the other read ¡°Builder¡± with a 1 marked on top. The cards again drained into my palms. I stared blankly and wondered how this magic was working. Lights? Holographics? Was this a trick?


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder,¡± the hooded figure said, and in the blink of an eye, the void disappeared, and I was back in my cave again holding four cards.


    If this was a prank, they got me good.

 Chapter 3

    Chapter 3


    Bianca - Day 1 of Landing


    Like a magician pulling silk handkerchiefs out of their sleeves, I pulled my cards out of my palms one after another. I pushed them back into my palms just to pull them back out like a sliding door. I felt like I was going to pass out soon just watching the real magic before me coming straight out of my palms. What on earth had I gotten myself into?


    Founder? B Card? What was that? Builder? For constructing this piece of crap sitting area? I just piled a few leaves on top of each other and now I¡¯m a builder? Or was that just a skill? It did only have a 1 on it so maybe it was humoring me. Sick sense of humor, whatever this was.


    The card that intrigued me the most was the ¡°Familiar: Golem¡± card. ¡°Will assist in building structures and basic tasks.¡± I understood the concept of a golem, but what exactly was this card supposed to do? I flicked the card, and it levitated before me. The card rumbled and I stood back as rocks nearby rolled to where the card was suspended in mid-air. The rocks sealed together in blue light to make a snowman-like rock formation before me. A few more jagged rocks flew to crown its head in a lion mane of triangle-tipped arrowheads the size of oranges. Along the upper ridge of the rocks that scarred its ¡°face,¡± dim blue light emanated out of it to form visor eyes.


    We both stared at each other in silence, me in a combination of terror, confusion and wonder.


    I''m losing it. I''m totally losing it. I should say something to it so it doesn''t attack me.


    ¡°Umm... are you my golem familiar?¡± I spoke up first.


    It just stared at me blankly before nodding.


    ¡°Do you have a name?¡± I asked.


    It considered and shook its head.


    ¡°Would you like a name?¡±


    It considered and shrugged.


    Naming things. I loved naming things. I looked around the cave and then came up with a perfect name.


    ¡°You will be named Slate. You know, like a clean slate,¡± I said, laughing to myself.


    It stared blankly at me.


    ¡°Umm... Slate, can you help me build stuff?¡± I asked.


    Slate didn¡¯t understand the question, or maybe it just felt it was rhetorical. I still kept my distance from the creature out of caution and fear; this was just such a strange situation. It wasn¡¯t a large golem; heck, it stood maybe a foot taller than I was. The rock creature was stumpy and wide and resembled a rock snowman. It was more oafish than intimidating. Its hands had three long rocks on the ends of them, looking like clubbed talons. I don¡¯t know if I was anthropomorphizing it, but the golem seemed laid-back, almost sleepy.


    ¡°Can you make me... a chair? My butt is kinda achy,¡± I asked.


    Again, Slate just stood there, not responding to my command. I reached into my palm for my card to read over the description of him again, wondering if I was missing something. With the card ¡°Familiar: Golem¡± in my hand, I tapped it and it floated in mid-air.


    The ¡°Familiar: Golem¡± card lit up and separated into three separate blue glowing cards: Gather, Stockpile, Build. I grabbed the Build card, and the other cards disappeared. The Build card transformed into a Chair card. Unlike the other cards, the Chair card was shadowed as if it wasn¡¯t filled in properly. When I saw the description of the card, it read:


    Relaxing Chair Missing Items:


    10 Plastic Chunks.


    10 High-Quality Leather.


    4 Wheels.


    "Wait. Plastic chunks? Where the hell can I get plastic chunks out here in the forest? Leather?" I looked at the chair in the art of the card and noticed it was a stereotypical swivel office chair. "No, obviously not that type of chair." I thought to myself about making a more reasonable chair. Slowly, the picture of the chair changed to something more medieval. The text and art on the card changed as well.


    Throne Missing Items:


    1000 Swords.


    1 Dragonflame.


    "No, not that either. What would make a practical chair out here?" I pictured in my mind a beach chair, made out of wood and a few parts.


    Wooden Chair Missing Items:


    10 Wood.


    10 Nails.


    "I''m not going to get nails out here." I tried to imagine the wood chairs that had those wood joints that would lock together without the need for nails.


    Wooden Chair Missing Items:


    10 Wood.


    "There. Now to get 10 wood." I pulled out my Familiar: Golem card and then brought up my Stockpile card. I wandered outside of the cave and noticed Slate following me like a puppy. At the fallen tree trunk, I threw the Stockpile card into the clearing. The card landed and a blue field was emitted that showed the boundaries of the stockpile as wide as a swimming pool. I thought the boundaries were too wide and blocked the clearing towards the cave. As I thought about how the stockpile should be, the stockpile became, and the blue magical boundaries shaped to form my thoughts. I was amazed. This whole system worked the way I thought.


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    I picked up a fallen stick near the stockpile and placed it into the stockpile. Bringing up the Build card again, I noticed something had changed.


    Wooden Chair Missing Items:


    9 Wood.


    ¡°You see that Slate?¡± I yelped. Slate just stared blankly. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there buddy, get some wood. Oh yeah, I have that Gather card!¡±


    I brought out the Gather card and instead of bringing out my Familiar: Golem card, I instinctively reached into my palm and pulled out the Gather card. In the distance, there was a tree with maple leaves on it and tiny emerald acorns. I tossed the Gather card and it landed on the feet-wide trunk and the whole tree flashed blue in designation.


    ¡°Go get it, boy!¡± I commanded Slate.


    Slate sauntered towards it and started beating its head against the trunk, which lodged a few acorns to the ground. He kept at it for a few minutes before I realized he wasn¡¯t making much progress.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have an axe or a sharp rock?¡± I asked the creature, who was still banging his head against the trunk uselessly.


    It stopped and looked at its hand. One of its fingers had a triangle edge on it, and Slate started smashing the pointy end into the tree like a woodpecker. I stared silently as it kept hammering away, making a small dent in the bark.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna take forever for you to chop this thing,¡± I sighed.


    Instead, I tossed my Gather card at the bush sprouting those banana leaves, and Slate began to strip the bush bare of its leaves and carry a stack of them to the stockpile I designated earlier. While Slate was harvesting the bush, I looked for more fallen branches and sticks and tossed them into the stockpile myself. When we were finished, I pulled out the Stockpile and checked by tapping it.


    Stockpile:


    Wood - 14


    Leaves - 29


    Tinder - 6


    I pulled out the Chair card once again and thought of a good place to place it. I would put it in the cave for now. I¡¯ll move it once I make myself a bigger shelter. I walked to the cave with Slate following behind and threw the chair card against one of the cave walls facing the entrance. With it placed, a blue outline of the finished product appeared and disappeared. With this, Slate turned around, headed for the stockpile, and gathered the material. He placed 10 pieces of wood next to the designated spot.


    Slate used parts of his body to carve the wood into shape. I watched him carefully as he started ramming the wood into the cave walls to make them fit some shape. How the hell was he going to make all the junk we gathered into a chair? I pulled out the Chair card in my palms and checked it. It had an hourglass on it with the majority of sand in the top glass. Watching it tick down, it looked like it would take a while.


    My mouth felt dry, and I wandered to the stream I saw earlier when I was following that boy. I cupped the water with my hands and drank a small mouthful to quench my thirst. I wandered back to my camp with little trouble, retracing my steps. I had a few hiccups, but the trees in the forest became a lot more recognizable. I saw the marker I had left near the camp and made my way back to the clearing with the stump. I heard thwacking sounds coming from the cave and my heart calmed as I realized it was probably Slate just working away at the chair.


    After watching Slate work on the chair, getting no closer, I pulled up the Chair card to watch the hourglass seemingly drip sand in slow motion, the bottom glass nowhere near being a tenth full.


    Hours passed, and again I felt thirsty. I always had this problem where my mouth would constantly feel dry. Normally I would have my water bottle with me at all times, but the plane crash took my bag. The sun was beginning to set. I tracked where it set in relation to the cave entrance where Slate was still busy working on the chair. I would still have a few hours before night came, so I went to examine my stockpile. I looked at the banana leaves and thought up a container for them. With it in my mind, I pulled the Banana Leaf Basket card that was created from my Build card and my own thoughts, and the thumping sounds from the cave stopped.


    Slate stared at the leaves. He tried folding them to cover one another, but before he could do anything else, I gathered my own leaves, tore them into smaller belt-sized pieces, and started cutting slotted holes. I began to fold the ends of the leaves together like a belt, tearing one end smaller to fit into the holes I made. The golem watched all of this carefully and then began doing the same thing with his leaf. The fabric of the banana leaf was hydrophobic and slick on one end, with the consistency of soft plastic, and rough on the other end with the texture of a tennis ball. A few moments later, after layering it with more leaves, we finally made a leaf container.


    I examined the final product and it glowed with blue light that faded into both the golem and my palms.


    Palm Leaf Bucket


    Quality F


    Suitable for carrying all sorts of things. May leak.


    ¡°High five, dude! We made something,¡± I said to Slate, who just stared at my expectant open palm.


    ¡°Oh shoot, it¡¯s almost night. I¡¯ll be right back. Continue with that chair thingy, Slate,¡± I said.


    The sun was on the horizon as I held the new basket in my hand and rushed toward the stream to get some water. Slate, feeling my commands, slumbered back toward the cave. I scooped the bucket into the stream and cupped a handful into my mouth. The water tasted stale but not awful, and my own thirst made it go down with ease.


    Not realizing I was too busy rushing to the stream, I had completely forgotten to mark my path, and now the area was too dark for me to make out the old plants and landmarks I had kept track of. Panic set in.


    ¡°SLATE!¡± I yelled.


    My stomach was in knots. I felt sick---literally sick---and started throwing up. My gut churned, and I found an area near the stream where I felt I had some cover and relieved myself. After finishing and cleaning myself near the stream, my head began to throb. I tried to focus and pulled out my cards. The dim light from the magic did little to light my way as I tried to retrace my steps back to the cave.


    After some stumbling, I saw it---a light. Was it Slate? No, Slate¡¯s eyes glowed blue like my hands, this was orange light. I followed the light to a clearing and there I saw two figures next to a campfire. One was a young boy, sleeping next to the campfire, and the other was a man, maybe in his early twenties or late teens---it was hard to tell in the darkness. The young man was wearing a blue hoodie and black baseball cap, and I recognized him from the plane. I remembered his blue hoodie distinctly because he had asked another passenger to swap seats so he could sit next to his brother.


    Before I could say anything and make my introduction, a blue light came from the young man. He was pulling magic cards, like I had, out of his hands and throwing them into the fire. I sat behind a tree in the darkness, watching him. The young man got up and carried the younger child in his arms. Thinking this was probably the best time to introduce myself, I stepped forward. He cautiously stepped back upon seeing me and woke up the young boy, who got on his feet and yawned. The young man immediately took a defensive stance, and I put my hands up to relax him. I opened my mouth to say hello, but instead of words, vomit came out.

 Chapter 4

    Chapter 4


    Orion - Day 1 of Landing


    The projectile vomit landed a meter from my feet, causing both me and Cass to step back. The crazed woman, or girl, had a wild look in her sunken eyes. Her disheveled auburn hair and pale freckled face made her look like an undead witch. She had been carrying a green cauldron filled with water, now toppled over and wetting the sand near the campfire.


    I took a piece of driftwood, lit it with the campfire, and pointed it at the sick girl. "Who are you?"


    More coughing and vomiting followed as she wailed holding her head, ¡°My head... make it stop. I shouldn¡¯t have... it was all that golem¡¯s fault.¡±


    ¡°Cass, stay behind me,¡± I said as my brother hid behind my legs.


    ¡°Rye, I think she¡¯s sick,¡± Cass said with concern.


    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s sick alright,¡± I replied.


    ¡°No, please,¡± the girl wailed. ¡°I¡¯m like you, see, look.¡±


    She got back up from her heaving, wiped her mouth with the back of her forearms, and then reached into her palms, pulling out a card. ¡°Look, I¡¯m like you.¡±


    The blue glowing card read, ¡°Familiar: Golem.¡±


    Cass¡¯s eyes widened and he shouted, ¡°COOL! Do that again! Can you pull that card out of your hand again?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a golem?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Again, again!¡± Cass ordered.


    ¡°No... I have one,¡± the sick girl said between heavy breaths. ¡°I think I have food poisoning, oh god.¡±


    ¡°Are you from the plane, or is this your... Do you live around here?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What?! No, I was sitting behind you on the plane,¡± she said, offended. ¡°Listen, my name is Bianca, and I was on a flight too, and I... I... Oh god... I feel sick, just wait.¡±


    She ran off back into the darkness, leaving me and Cass speechless. I kept my guard up with the makeshift torch, scanning the area for other signs of people. Was it only her? Thankful it was a fellow survivor of the plane crash and not some crazed native, I relaxed. Cass left my shadow and ventured forward before I tugged on his shirt.


    ¡°Don¡¯t follow her, you might get lost. We¡¯ll wait here,¡± I commanded.


    ¡°But Rye, she has that cool card trick!¡± Cass said, frowning and giving me his puppy dog look.


    Not sure if I would have told him, but I figured the cat was out of the bag already. I reached into my palms and pulled out the Firewielder card. Cass gave me a bewildered look of awe and tried his best to snatch it out of the air as I held it before him, his fingers phasing through the card. The card vanished back into my palms in wisps of blue trails.


    ¡°Rye! You can do it too!¡± Cass nearly shouted. ¡°How! Teach me Rye, teach me Rye.¡±


    Cass chanted "teach me, Rye" over and over before I answered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know... it¡¯s corny to say, but it feels like we are in some kind of simulation or video game,¡± I answered. ¡°I was taken to this place and some guy dealt me cards and... when I came back, I could do this.¡±


    I showed him the trick again, this time showing my Forager skill card.


    ¡°No fair. I want to do that. That¡¯s not fair! That¡¯s not fair! That¡¯s not fair!¡± Cass shouted.


    ¡°Listen, maybe you are too young to accept the terms of service or something, I dunno. Don¡¯t blame me, and stop yelling, you¡¯ll attract something.¡± I reprimanded him. Cass stopped his shouting, but it wasn¡¯t due to anything I said. My younger brother looked behind me and stared at the moon. I followed his gaze and my jaw dropped.


    ¡°I knew it,¡± Cass said. ¡°We¡¯re on another planet, Rye! It has to be! Look, that moon is green and has rings around it!¡±


    Horror. I felt a sinking horror in my spine as I stared at the moon. The moon in the sky glowed a faint green as if it''s surface was covered in grass, and a sparkling line ran across the axis of its heavenly body. I felt lightheaded at the implication and said under my breath, ¡°It has to be a mistake.¡±


    With no light pollution wherever we were, the sky was vibrant with stars and unseen and unrecognizable constellations. Cass pointed in a direction and said, ¡°Look, no big dipper. No little dipper either, Rye. We can¡¯t be on Earth. We can¡¯t be.¡±


    Cass was right, but I refused to believe we were on a different planet or, god forbid, a different dimension. This was a simulation or some kind of virtual reality---it had to be. We were still on Earth. Some technician will plug us out to find we were just sitting in some gaming room in Miami.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you have those cards, Rye! I¡¯ll get them too. Oh man, I can¡¯t wait. I want to shoot fireballs and get a sword!¡± Cass shouted.


    ¡°You watch too much anime,¡± I said, trying to calm him down, though my own heart was beating away against my ribcage.


    Rustling came from the clearing in the forest, and the pale auburn-haired figure emerged, her face looking red and more sheepish than before.


    ¡°Sorry, I had to... I feel sick,¡± the girl who called herself Bianca said.


    I glanced at the green bucket lying on the ground and back to Bianca. ¡°You didn¡¯t happen to drink the water around here, did you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I was thirsty... Oh god, don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s poison,¡± she said.


    ¡°Not poison... I don¡¯t think. It¡¯s just unsafe. You have to boil fresh water,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Oh god,¡± Bianca rubbed her forehead. ¡°I was just so thirsty... I lost my bag and my water bottle and my phone, and the plane crashed and I just...¡±


    The girl started sniffling, and I felt awkward watching her. ¡°It¡¯s okay... just don¡¯t drink any water until we boil it. If you made it, others did too. We¡¯ll be okay, Bianca.¡±


    Bianca nodded and came over, holding her arms open. I immediately shunned her with the flat of my palm. With her attempts to hug me spurned, she turned to my younger brother, who held his nose as Bianca came down and hugged him instead.


    ¡°I¡¯m just so glad to find other people. I was all alone and...¡± she sniffled.


    ¡°Rye, she smells like puke,¡± Cass said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be rude,¡± I whispered, as if Bianca couldn¡¯t hear me.


    ¡°You hug her then,¡± Cass whispered back, again as if the person we were talking about wasn¡¯t right before us.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like being touched by strangers,¡± I said. ¡°Girls love little kids, so just...¡±


    My brother¡¯s annoyed face and gritted teeth changed quickly as we both stared slack-jawed at a set of glowing blue eyes in the darkness. The rock monster stomped its way through the clearing, its gaze of death fixated on the three of us.


    ¡°Cass, take the girl and run for the ocean. I¡¯ll stall it,¡± I said. Rock monsters hated water. It''ll be safe there.


    I steadied the makeshift torch in my hand like a sword and pointed it at the rock-armored creature. Somehow I knew my Firewielder card made the flame on the end of the driftwood blaze hungrily in the night. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to make myself look as big as possible. Rushing forward, I went for its face, the flame end of the wooden club crashing into the monster¡¯s eyes and exploding in sparks and flying cinder. It recoiled and stood in its place, like an unmoving mountain, with a look in its eyes as if daring me to try that again. Or it could have been hungry, it was hard to tell since the creature really couldn''t make facial expressions.


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    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Bianca yelled and then proceeded to hold her head in pain.


    ¡°I¡¯m protecting you guys, get away from here!¡± I yelled, waving my hands to signal them to leave.


    ¡°That¡¯s my golem!¡± She held out her Familiar: Golem card as if she was a police officer.


    ¡°What?¡± I cried.


    ¡°COOL!¡± Cass yelled. Cass ran towards the rock thing, dodging my attempts to cuff him, and tried to climb it.


    ¡°Cass, get away from that thing!¡± I yelled.


    ¡°Relax, it won¡¯t hurt him. It can barely hurt wood,¡± Bianca sighed. ¡°Oh god, I think I have to lie down.¡±


    The rock golem marched off to find leaves as Bianca summoned cards and threw them at trees.


    ¡°Wait!¡± I shouted as the golem started stripping nearby palms and trees of leaves.


    The golem piled the leaves near a flat spot on the beach, and Bianca lay down on it holding her head.


    ¡°You¡¯re just going to sleep there?¡± I asked her incredulously.


    ¡°I¡¯m cold, can you hold me?¡± Bianca asked as she lay down and closed her eyes.


    ¡°No. And Cass, get down from there,¡± I ordered, but my brother didn¡¯t listen as the golem brought over a large banana leaf and covered Bianca with it.


    ¡°Give me your hoodie, please,¡± Bianca asked, her eyes still closed and her body shivering beneath the piles of leaves.


    The weather was getting chillier with the night, but I could handle it without my hoodie. I took it off and gave it to her, and she blanketed herself with it wrapping my sleeves around her.


    ¡°Can you explain?¡± I asked. ¡°Why do you have a golem?¡±


    As I asked, the golem came over and stretched its body like an accordion over Bianca. I moved to get clear, and Cass was dislodged from the golem¡¯s back and stood next to me. The golem made a makeshift shelter over where Bianca was resting, her left arm finally pulling itself through the left sleeve.


    ¡°Card. Like you,¡± Bianca murmured and let out a yawn. Cass listened with undivided attention. ¡°Ghost gave. Darkness. Build chair. Slate.¡±


    She continued murmuring nonsensical words while Cass and I watched over her for a few minutes. She rambled on about her life as a student, why she was in Florida, her family, all of which I didn¡¯t pay attention to, but I tried to prod her more about her powers and meeting the strange card dealer. It was clear she was exhausted, sick, and just wanted to sleep. The golem locked in place as a makeshift shelter, its eyes dimming. I kept my eyes on Cass as he wandered off and returned with a giant banana leaf like Bianca''s, lying down beside her in the golem¡¯s makeshift body canopy. Before I could lecture him about sleeping next to strangers, I relented, realizing it was probably the safest place for him.


    I tossed another log onto the fire and used my oyster shells as containers to fetch water from the green leafy bucket Bianca had brought. The bucket at this point had maybe a third of its content left, the rest leaking onto the sands beside it. I boiled the water over the fire, using a flat rock as a tray, and sipped on the cooled boiled water from the shells. It still carried a faint taste of the ocean, briny from the liquor in the oyster shells. An idea struck me as I examined another oyster shell filled with boiled water.


    I pulled out my Cook card from my wallet alongside the oyster shell, prompting another card to appear.


    Rock Clam Broth - F


    Remove Chill for 3 hours.


    Despite the growing night chill, my body felt warmer without my outerwear. Glancing back at the two sleeping figures wrapped in leaves, I decided against joining them. Sleep wouldn¡¯t come easily tonight, and someone needed to keep watch. The night was still young, and I was eager to test out my new cards. First, I would need a tool.


    Pockets. If I had to describe my brother Cass¡¯ choice of clothing, it was pockets. His green army shirt had two pockets in the front, and his cargo pants had a total of eight pockets: the usual four front and back and two more on each leg. I wondered how he could walk around with all that stuff in them. I rummaged through his pockets, found his walking rock collection, and picked out a jagged piece of obsidian shaped like a pencil-sized arrowhead. The ends weren¡¯t sharp enough to prick my fingers as I felt along the edge, but it would do for now, and I commandeered the rock into my own pockets. Taking my makeshift torch, I ventured forth onto the dark beach looking for more stuff to cook up. I wasn¡¯t too worried about getting lost; the dim glowing eyes of the golem and the campfire¡¯s light would guide my way back to the ¡°camp.¡±


    Using the sounds of the waves, I headed toward the sea. When I saw the waves before me, I started walking parallel to the water and down the beach, turning my head every so often to make sure I could still see the campfire behind me. I waved my torch and spotted faint blue lights fading in and out of my vision. A small creature on the beach was digging and moving in a zig-zag pattern across the sand. I came up to grab the crustacean, which was about the size of a grapefruit. The crab I grabbed snipped my hands, and I dropped it. Feeling annoyed, I stomped on its carapace as it scurried away. With my foot on its body, I yanked its claws off and put the claws into my pocket. I found two more crabs, declawed them the same way, and then washed all three with my hands in the ocean.


    With a total of three crabs, I walked back to the campfire. I nodded at the golem and said as I rested by the campfire, ¡°Sorry about earlier... you know, about the whole head-hitting thing. I didn¡¯t know you belonged to, umm... what was her name... the girl.¡±


    It didn¡¯t acknowledge me or the comment as it remained vigilant as the makeshift canopy.


    I threw the crabs into the leaf bucket that the girl brought to hold before I started grabbing some things I needed from the nearby plants. I took two crabs and started tying them and their dismembered claws that I previously held in my pockets to a drenched branch using some vines. I started sharpening the edge of the obsidian rock that I borrowed from Cass across another flat rock lying on the beach. The work tore up my hands something awful. When it was adequately sharp and the crabs were struggling against their ropes, I stabbed them both right above their eyes with the knife to test its sharpness and to put the poor things out of their misery. I then proceeded to take my makeshift crab skewers and roasted them on the open fire, some of their juices splashing onto the campfire and making it flicker and spark. I turned the skewer to the other side, making sure both sides cooked evenly.


    When I started smelling smoke, I pulled the branch away from the fire and set it next to me. The one crab I had left alive started moving, and I placed the flat rock on top of the creature hoping to save it later. The crispy vines that were strapping the crabs onto the stick were burnt to a crisp by now but gave off a thyme scent, and the wood itself gave off notes of hickory. I pulled the carapace off of the bigger one, and it presented me with pure crab butter. I checked my Cook card to see a new temporary card spawned from it.


    Fire-Roasted Crab Roe - C


    Weak Protection against Fire Magic - 1 hour


    Tough Skin - 1 hour


    Like a bowl, I tilted the crab¡¯s shell towards my mouth and started sucking on the crab¡¯s brains. It was gritty, but the fattiness, smokiness, and brininess of the crab brain juice was heavenly. I savored it and thought Cass would love this, though he was always squeamish about eating innards and anything but the claw meat. Speaking of the claw meat, I used a rock to break the claws and removed the broken shell to reveal the juicy meat.


    Fire-Roasted Crab Meat - C


    Slight increase experience gain - 1 hour


    Tough Skin - 1 hour


    Both cards were merely information cards that disappeared when my food was finished. I wondered if these stats or buffs meant anything. According to my Soul Food card, eating food I made myself gave me buffs, but how could I tell if I was getting more experience? Fire magic? I examined my hands where I started scraping up raw due to sharpening the obsidian rock. The part of my hand that was once pink and sore started callousing over in a thick shell. It still hurt something awful, and the pain throbbed underneath it. With my other hand, I reached for the fire and immediately pulled it back when it got too hot.


    So it didn¡¯t protect much against real fires or heat. I just need a wizard to hit me with a fire spell to test it out, surely.


    Sometime through this, I had accepted something was off about this place that I was in and had a "No Longer in Kansas" moment. The rules of this world were different, and I had to learn them quickly to protect myself and, more importantly, to protect Cass. If I could make better food, I could get better buffs, and well... I think humans needed to eat to survive anyway. I would need pots, pans, and clean water. I would need salt, sugar, oil, and tallow. I would need shelter from the elements like rain. God, a rainstorm right now would kill us. I thought about all the things I needed to do, and somehow I felt better knowing another adult was here with me and this golem creature was here to help as well.


    The sea and forest were abundant with forage and sources of food. I just needed tools to gather them. A knife, a stove, a large pot, a grill, a fishing rod, traps, seashells, charcoal, soap, and so much more, and all I have so far is a fire. I looked at Cass¡¯ rock and realized I could knock one of those things off my list.


    Stripping the bark from palm leaves and then peeling off fibers from the bark like string cheese, I made tiny strings. I got an arm-length wood stick and snapped it to make a piece as long as my hand. I started grinding and chipping the dull end of Cass¡¯ obsidian rock. When it was in the shape I wanted, I jammed the end into the stump of the branch and wedged it in there. I then started wrapping the stumps of the rock that was embedded into the knife to the branch with string and vines. All the while I was working, I noticed the golem¡¯s eyes lit up as if he was paying attention. The dim blue that emitted from his head followed my movements as I wandered around looking for material. When I was happy with the construction of the knife, I began sharpening it even further. I sucked on the cold brains of the other crab I cooked before I worked and, like work gloves, my hands were protected against the constant friction of me trying to sharpen the edge of the knife.


    Finally done, I ran the knife across the banana leaf, the plastic fabric of the leaf easily parting away like butter. Almost as a newly acquired reflex, I reached into my card holdings in my palms and felt instinctively that a new card was there. The art on the card was a man holding a hammer and a board with a nail in it.


    Crafting - 1


    With the Crafting card up and my newly crafted knife in my hand, a new card popped up.


    Obsidian Knife


    Quality D


    Not surprised about the D grade the card system gave it. The thing looked like something out of a paleolithic archeological dig. It would have to do for now, but I felt exhausted. How much time had passed? I thought I¡¯d be able to hold out through the night, but my eyelids were heavy. I came over to where my brother was sleeping and laid down next to him. I would just rest my eyes for a bit.


    After what felt like a minute, I woke up to my brother jostling me to wakefulness.


    ¡°Rye, wake up, someone¡¯s here!¡± Cass said.


    ¡°That girl? Just tell her to let me sleep for a few more minutes,¡± I groaned.


    ¡°No. Someone else. It¡¯s a guy.¡±

 Chapter 5

    Chapter 5


    Bianca - Day 2 of Landing


    Intense throbbing pain emanated throughout various parts of my body. My head was pounding. My back ached from sleeping in an awkward position. My legs were sore from all the walking I did yesterday. I stretched and got up, but it made the hammer in my head clang even louder against my skull. Dizziness followed, then lightheadedness. I needed some water; my mouth felt as dry as cotton.


    A man was sleeping a meter away from me, his broad shoulders and back facing me. He had his arms crossed while he shivered in his sleep, his black baseball cap resting in front of his face. I took off the blue hoodie I borrowed from him and blanketed him with it, then immediately regretted it as I felt a chill run through my body. He¡¯s asleep; he won¡¯t miss the thing, I thought as I reached back, rescinded my kind gesture, and pulled the hoodie over my body once again.


    Slate had covered me like a canopy, the stones of his body stretching to make a makeshift cover for us. When Slate noticed me walking away from the makeshift resting place, he quickly wound back down to his wide and snowman-like form and followed. Was it up all night? Do golems even need sleep? I suppose I should be grateful he provided shelter, but he could have been doing something productive or even entertaining himself while I was asleep.


    A young boy in a red baseball cap and green army shirt came over. Determination was written on his face while he briefly acknowledged me, ¡°Good morning, Bianca.¡±


    ¡°Morn! I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t get your name last night, cutie,¡± I said, smiling.


    ¡°I¡¯m Cass. That¡¯s Orion, but me and Dad call him Rye,¡± Cass answered, pointing to his sleeping brother.


    Cass was a bit too chipper for my liking given the fact that we were stranded in the middle of nowhere. My impression of the young boy was that he was taking it rather well, considering the mess we were in. It seemed like an adventure for him. At least he has his brother with him. I might never get to see my family again. Don''t think about that, Bianca. The young man emptied one of his cargo pants pockets and out dropped a jet black rock which he started beating with another rock. His poor little hands were cut up, and I gasped.


    ¡°What are you doing? Stop that, you¡¯ll hurt yourself, sweetie,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯m making a knife,¡± Cass chirped and continued smashing away at the rock. ¡°Rye has one. He must have made it while we were asleep. I want one too.¡±


    Cass picked up the knife lying next to the campfire, next to discarded crab carcasses and a flat rock lying on top of a dead crab. To call it a knife was a bit of a stretch. It was just a piece of rock stuck to a wood branch held together with some string.


    ¡°Just borrow his, you don¡¯t have to cut yourself up making that thing,¡± I said, examining the knife and pointing the handle at the young boy, waiting for him to grab it.


    ¡°No way. Rye always gets mad if I borrow his stuff. Besides, this is so cool. I want to learn how to make it. It¡¯s like Minecraft.¡± Cass¡¯s eyes lit up in determination.


    ¡°Except in Minecraft, you don¡¯t get hurt. I¡¯ll tell you what, why don¡¯t I have Slate here make it for you?¡±


    Cass immediately stopped what he was doing, and his eyes widened. A huge smile lit up his face, and he yelped, ¡°Cool! He can make stuff?¡±


    ¡°Slate is a builder golem. My builder golem,¡± I said with pride, putting my hands on my hips. I felt like a god among a fanboy as Cass¡¯ bright eyes shone with respect for me, no doubt.


    I pulled out my Stockpile card and designated the area around the campfire where they had gathered firewood and Cass had dropped his rocks. I brought out my Build card, stared at Orion¡¯s knife as a reference, and then nodded. I threw the temporary Knife work order card down, and Slate began gathering the rock, stick, and vines needed to replicate the item. All the while, Cass stared in awe and kept shouting ¡°awesome¡± and ¡°cool,¡± following the golem like a puppy dog as it worked on the knife.


    Slate hammered the rocks together and sharpened both ends. After he smashed a blunter end of the black rock into the handle-sized branch, splitting the end and lodging the rock into the branch. The builder golem then tied plant vines and various other plant fibers like a cast around the rock and branch. I was surprised at how quickly it finished and checked the card that was produced.


    Obsidian Knife


    Quality D


    ¡°Hey... how come you had no problem making that but spent forever making that chair?¡± I asked Slate.


    Slate had no response to my question. I pulled out the card of the Chair that was technically still in progress and no progress had been made since I left the cave, the hourglass on the work order completely frozen. Slate must have stopped working on it after I called for him yesterday. I tapped on the card to discard it. Probably more important things to worry about than my butt right now.


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    ¡°Can I really, really have this?¡± Cass asked, holding the knife like it was Excalibur itself.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t hurt anyone or yourself with it, okay, sweetie,¡± I said.


    Cass nodded furiously and then started using it to trace lines in a broad leaf, testing the sharpness. The young boy then skewered the crab under the rock with the knife and started roasting it over the open fire. Strange but cute.


    ¡°Good job, Slate, another satisfied customer,¡± I said, patting the golem on its arm. ¡°Now forget about that chair. We need an actual shelter and...¡±


    I rubbed my stomach.


    ¡°Maybe an outhouse too. But shelter first, okay.¡± I patted the golem and nodded my head. It gave a solemn nod of acknowledgment back.


    ¡°Bianca...¡± Cass said, tugging on my shirt. The young boy''s eyes were filled with worry and his tiny hands were gripping tightly onto his new knife.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s someone on the beach,¡± Cass said, pointing. I followed his finger and saw the body of a young man washed up on the beach maybe a football field length away from our fire, lying face down.


    ¡°Oh god, wake up your brother,¡± I cried. ¡°I¡¯m gonna do some CPR, god, please be alive.¡±


    I sprinted toward the figure, and before I could get there, he pushed himself up with his hands and brushed sand from his grey sweatpants---a slightly chubby man in his twenties standing over six feet upright. The stranger brushed the sand out of his dirty blonde hair and spat out some sand. The front of his flannel and sweatpants, where he was lying, was marred with wet sand but the back of his clothes was dry as a bone. The castaway squinted his eyes and looked around before spotting me. Then he saw the golem standing next to me and screamed.


    His high-pitched wailing clanged against my head like nails on a chalkboard, my sickness still haunting me from yesterday. Do I have to explain to every new person I meet that I have a magic golem? What¡¯s so strange about that? When Slate just stood there, not doing anything, and Cass and his older brother Orion came over, acknowledging the golem and not reacting strangely to it, the new arrival calmed down and did a double-take, trying to puzzle out the situation.


    ¡°Why... wait...¡± the man asked. ¡°That rock thing is moving, am I the only one not seeing it?¡±


    ¡°This is Slate, and it belongs to me. I mean like... I don¡¯t own him or anything; he¡¯s not a slave, but he¡¯s my, uh, let¡¯s say assistant,¡± I explained, brushing my hair back.


    ¡°What? What are you talking about?¡± the stranger asked.


    ¡°If he thinks that¡¯s strange, check this out.¡± Orion pulled his magic cards out of his palms and started juggling them in front of him.


    ¡°Hey, cut that out!¡± I said, shooing Orion and trying to get him to put a stop to scaring the new guy. Orion shrugged with a wicked grin, his sunken eyes winking.


    The stranger gawked at the two of us slack-jawed and then gave another look at our magic golem. His eyes widened. ¡°Are you telling me... we... ISEKAI???¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I said, not knowing what that word meant.


    ¡°We died in that plane crash, and now we are truck-kun¡¯d here! Oh man, I can¡¯t wait to do magic and get my class!¡± The man¡¯s horror turned to amazement and then to anticipation. What a weirdo.


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s one of those,¡± Orion sighed, his hands on his forehead.


    ¡°You watch anime?¡± Cass asked, the young boy was also a huge fan of it from the looks of it.


    ¡°Oh, totally, dude. Awesome, so you already captured a rock-type Pok¨¦mon? Where do you get Pok¨¦balls?¡± the stranger turned to me.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with introductions first, Ash Ketchum,¡± Orion said. ¡°I¡¯m Orion, this is Cass, and this is, um...¡±


    Orion looked to Cass, expecting his younger brother to help him out and fill in the blanks.


    ¡°Wait... wait a minute. I was half sick yesterday and remember giving you my name. It¡¯s Bianca. OR-I-ON,¡± I said.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m more of a face kind of guy. I¡¯m not really great with names.¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯m Alex. Alex Ryder. Seat 11C.¡±


    ¡°7A and 7B,¡± Orion nodded and pointed at him and his brother.


    ¡°Alex, did you wash up now? How did you survive the swim? What¡¯s the last thing you remember?¡± I asked trying to get a grasp of this strange situation and why we all just magically appear on shores at random times.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember swimming. I was on the plane, and we experienced turbulence. I was in the aisle but remembered seeing lights flashing outside the window. The next thing I knew, I blacked out and woke up on this beach,¡± Alex recounted with his hand on his chin.


    ¡°Same, but... we got here yesterday...¡± I said. I stared at Orion for some support. It looked like a light bulb flashed in his head, and Orion¡¯s eyes flooded with dread.


    ¡°Oh man, you guys leveled up before me. I gotta catch up. Where¡¯s the monsters at? How do you find a weapon?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any cards yet,¡± Cass frowned, tugging on his brother¡¯s shirt, who looked like a deer in the headlights. ¡°Rye, teach me how to level up too.¡±


    ¡°Orion, what¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked him.


    Orion lifted his baseball cap to get a better look, scanning both sides of the beach. A frown creased his pale face, and sweat ran down his dark brown hair. ¡°I think... we have to prepare for more people to come.¡±


    ¡°What? How many more people?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Maybe... at least two more today and then... everyone on the plane eventually,¡± Orion answered grimly.

 Chapter 6

    Chapter 6


    Orion - Day 2 of Landing


    ¡°Wait, WHAT?!¡± The young girl couldn¡¯t believe it. Both Cass and the new guy couldn¡¯t be more excited for more arrivals, not realizing the implication. The new guy didn¡¯t sense any time pass from the moment the plane entered the event to when he arrived on these strange shores which meant that whatever was warping us here was trickling survivors in one by one, bending space and time. Given that all of us here so far were not random people selected but all aboard the same plane, it would follow that eventually all the other passengers would show up.


    It was hard enough to shelter and feed one person out here in the wilderness. It¡¯s going to be impossible to do so with... how many people were on that plane? I had dark thoughts and knew I shouldn¡¯t feel this way, but deep inside, I hoped there weren¡¯t more survivors. What am I thinking? That¡¯s an awful thought to have. But what if some of them have allergies? What if they are pregnant? What if some have asthma or diabetes? What if they are vegan and can¡¯t eat shellfish? I had to take care of Cass, that¡¯s it. If push came to shove, I would... no, that¡¯s an awful thing to think about.


    ¡°Explain, Orion,¡± Brenda, I think her name was Brenda, said.


    ¡°This new guy washed up on shore a day after we did. He¡¯s only partly wet, but it doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s been out at sea, and even if he had been, there¡¯s no way he can just magically survive out there for an entire day. We both assumed the waves washed us here immediately after the plane crash in the ocean. I think... we are all trickling in somehow... one by one,¡± I guessed.


    ¡°What?¡± Brenda didn¡¯t follow at all.


    ¡°Oh dude, that totally makes sense. It¡¯s like that show Lost or Survivor. We¡¯re isekai¡¯d here by the game system, and it¡¯s dropping us in Hunger Games style on an island to survive,¡± the new guy theorized.


    Despite how utterly ridiculous and stupid that sounded, I found myself somewhat believing some of what the new guy said to be plausible. The rules were being thrown out. We were definitely in a different world, at least with the night sky yesterday showing us that, not to mention the stuff in my pocket dimension palms. I had to go on the assumption that the rules of time and space were being bent somehow unless the new guy rode here on a dolphin or whale.


    ¡°Awesome!¡± Cass said, wanting to agree with the new guy. ¡°Rye, can you teach me how to do that card trick now?¡±


    ¡°Cass... where did you find those black rocks?¡± I asked him, ignoring his question.


    ¡°They were on the walls from the cliff from yesterday, you remember? I brought them while you were sleeping,¡± Cass said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s slow down. Orion, can you explain?¡± Brenda asked.


    ¡°Brenda, we don¡¯t have time to talk. We wasted too much time yesterday. We should be building a shelter. We need an axe to chop down trees, and we need pots to boil water in,¡± I said.


    ¡°It¡¯s Bianca. I learned your name O-RI-ON, the least you can do is learn mine.¡± Bianca had her hands on her hips.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I had already forgotten it, slipped, and pressed on. ¡°Your golem, can it... chop wood?¡±


    ¡°No, it just tries to headbutt the tree or scratch it,¡± Bianca said.


    ¡°Show me your abilities,¡± I requested.


    There was envy among the cardless as the two people with cards discussed their abilities. Again, Cass kept bugging me so often and interrupting my conversation with the girl with the golem. The golem had a stockpile and gathering system, which could make making a shelter that much easier.


    ¡°We can build something big by the beach, then when new people arrive, they can see us,¡± Bianca suggested.


    ¡°We need to build by fresh water,¡± I said. ¡°Usually, villages are formed by some fresh water source like a river or lake.¡±


    ¡°Village? Aren''t you thinking a bit too far here?¡± the girl with the golem asked.


    ¡°We might be a village by the time all the new survivors pop in,¡± I said. ¡°Short term, it might be better to build here, but we need to think beyond that. We need fresh water to drink and wash with.¡±


    ¡°I think there¡¯s a river near the stream in the woods. We just have to follow the stream up the hills, and it¡¯ll lead there,¡± Cass said.


    ¡°Dude, what about the other survivors? How will they find us?¡± the new guy asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to leave someone here,¡± I said.


    We all looked at the new guy.


    ¡°What? No way. I want to go level,¡± the new guy protested.


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    ¡°I can stay,¡± Cass volunteered.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t letting a little kid stay here,¡± I said.


    ¡°Cass is really smart for his age, and we might need Alex¡¯s manpower,¡± the girl with the golem suggested.


    ¡°I¡¯m not letting my kid brother stay here by himself,¡± I said.


    ¡°So I get the short end of the stick while you guys level up?¡± The new guy looked pissed.


    ¡°Level up? What the hell are you talking about---¡±


    ¡°QUIET! Listen, I have the builder golem. So I decide,¡± the girl with the golem said. ¡°We¡¯ll all stay here.¡±


    ¡°But water,¡± I retorted.


    ¡°We need to build an outpost here anyway. We¡¯ll build a shelter here good for ten or so people. Once we have more people and more manpower, we can simply move to water. For now, we can bring the water to us,¡± Bianca said.


    The girl put her foot down, and I didn¡¯t want to argue. Truthfully, it was a better plan and made use of all our manpower. I relented and agreed. The first thing we did was make an axe for Slate. Bianca, as she told me now, repeatedly showed me how she designated resources for Slate to harvest.


    When it came to bushes, Slate had no problem stripping branches and tearing off leaves easily and carrying piles of flat leaves to the stockpile. When it came to standing trees, however, it either headbutted the trunk or just peppered it with one of its pointy fingers. I had Cass go out and gather useful rocks, reminding him constantly not to venture too far while Alex gathered mud.


    When Cass returned with a flat, thick pancake-shaped gray rock, we formed it into a wedge blade by smashing the ends of it into another rock. Bianca came over and ordered Slate to finish sharpening the edge as she threw on a makeshift Axe card in her work orders for Slate. When both edges of the blade were decently sharp, I gathered the blade and used a club of a tree branch to finish the axe. Slate watched carefully as I wedged the plate into the branch, hammering it with another rock into one side of the branch''s ends. Slate took over as I got tired, mimicking my hammering, and made a hole right through the branch, resembling a giant wooden sewing needle head. With the hole in place, I wedged the stone axe head into the hole and then tied it in a cross pattern using strings braided from vines and other plant fibers. The axe formed a blue light around it and melded, and my Crafting card leveled up to 2, spawning a new card.


    Simple Stone Axe


    Quality F


    20% more effective against Wood


    With a new axe in hand, Bianca ordered Slate to take down some trees she designated. The first tree was a mere sapling, and Slate attacked the tree¡¯s trunk using the same hammering motion with the blunt end of the axe instead of the axe head itself. I facepalmed and showed him the right way to do it. The four of us stood and watched the golem cleaving the trunk, and in no time, it started teetering... towards us. We screamed and ran, and the tree fell on the unconcerned golem, breaking the fallen tree¡¯s fall before it plopped on the ground next to it. With the first tree down, Bianca ordered Slate to work on more trees, wisely at a long distance away from us, while we worked on the mud that Alex brought.


    The three adults gathered around the beach to make bowls and pots with the mud. With her pottery skills honed from art class, Bianca was the most adept at doing it, and her mud pots came out the best. We threw Bianca¡¯s pot on the fire first which I fed into a blistering fury with my Firewielder skill. When it was fired through and hardened, Bianca then revealed to us her newly acquired Pottery skill card. We all congratulated her, but both Alex and Cass were still annoyed neither had a class yet or any connection to the card system that both Bianca and I took advantage of. Alex¡¯s pots were next, and despite them not turning out bad, he still shook his head as he told us he never met the hooded card dealer. My pots were last, and one had cracked during the process, but I had still managed to get the Pottery skill. The second one turned out well but was lopsided, looking like the right side of the belly and lip was melting.


    All in all, we had seven pots in total, and Bianca and Cass went to a stream they knew to gather fresh water using two of the pots. It was midday, and we were growing hungry, so while they gathered water, I would gather more of those mollusks by the beach while Alex went to clean the mud off him. I carried a pot to the rocky coast down the beach and foraged some of the oysters. I placed a dozen into the pot after cleaning them and added some kelp I found as well. Looking out into the ocean, I saw silvery shoals of fish that a bluebird was hovering above monitoring. It gave me ideas for the future. I also would need to harvest some seawater to make salt but there was so much to do already. Walking back to the campfire, the crew was boiling the water they had fetched from the stream.


    Bianca waved, which I ignored, and I placed the pot of kelp and oysters near the fire.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°Our lunch,¡± I said.


    ¡°You can eat those things?¡± Alex gulped.


    ¡°Yeah, they are pretty decent.¡±


    ¡°We had them yesterday. They were great,¡± Cass said.


    I had to figure out our food situation; we couldn¡¯t eat oysters every day. The crabs don¡¯t reliably show up on the beach when I want them to. I would have to check the forest for forage and maybe try to make a fishing rod. There were mushrooms, and some unripe fruits, and there had to be some animals. Not to mention, more people were coming. Pouring some freshly boiled water into my pot of oysters/mussel creatures, I placed my pot of forage into the fire and watched as it boiled. All four of us looked famished with our half-day of hard work and waited patiently as the mollusks in the pot opened up to show their tender meat and release their liquor into the soup.


    When it cooled, we picked out the shellfish like mussels and picked off the meat from the shell with our hands. The liquor and the kelp gave it a natural saltiness and umami without needing seasoning. It could use some herbs and butter, though. I would need to forage for herbs in the forest. Alex, who looked a bit squeamish about seafood, tried it, and it turns out hunger is the best seasoning for any food. He quickly got over it and ate three more.


    When it was done, we saved the shells. Who knows if they could come in handy. I drank the soup that was left in the pot and checked my card.


    Rock Clam Broth - D


    Quality F


    Clam Shell: Remove Chill for 1 hour


    I guess that adding the kelp upgraded the dish from an F to a D with a longer duration of the buff. The juice I made from the Rock Clam was more flavorful since I had more of them in the pot.


    With food and water in our bellies, it was time to make a shelter before the sun set on the horizon.

 Chapter 7

    Chapter 7


    Bianca - Day 2 of Landing


    With a stick, Orion drew the rectangular foundation outline and support beams for the hut we were going to build on the flat area of dirt and grass we had picked out close to the beach. Slate had deforested a sizable chunk of land while we were eating and making plans by the campfire, leaving a pile of logs neatly stacked in a designated stockpile. There would be four log beams dug into the ground in each corner and four more support beams to complete the rectangular shape. Once the shape was clear in my mind, I used a Build card for the hut and placed it over the area. Slate would chop the logs into uniform sizes and plant the support beams in place.


    After Orion suggested adding rafter beams across the top of the hut, Slate held still while Orion and Cass mounted the golem¡¯s back and shoulders to tie the rafters to the foundation beams. Meanwhile, Alex and I gathered flat banana leaves to use for flooring and roofing. Slate watched Orion carefully tile the roof with the leaves, placing the long, waxy sides on top to shield against potential rain while the fuzzy sides rested across the roof grids. I asked Orion if we should make walls, but he told me we wouldn¡¯t be able to finish by today.


    Slate had become a literal machine, tiling the roof one after another like an assembly line. We all rushed to gather and hand him more leaves, venturing further into the forest as we stripped the nearby bushes bare. Orion and Cass built a fire pit just outside the hut and transferred the beach fire to the new campfire.


    Exhausted, we rested on the floor of our new temporary home while Slate continued to double-layer the roof, making sure it was waterproof. The fire blazed in the forefront with the beach in view ahead of us.


    ¡°A light breeze would blow this thing over,¡± Orion said. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about making a house.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s great,¡± I beamed. It was amazing what we---or mostly Slate---had accomplished in such a short time.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± Alex said. ¡°I could go for more of those oysters.¡±


    ¡°I think they¡¯re clams. We¡¯ll need another source of food. Umm...¡± I hesitated, knowing Orion was stuck on Alex¡¯s name and didn¡¯t want to embarrass himself.


    ¡°Alex,¡± Alex said with a smile.


    ¡°Sorry, did you find anything in the forest while you were gathering those leaves?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°I think I saw a few birds, they looked like turkeys. Mushrooms too, and berries.¡± Alex said.


    ¡°Can you round up some of those berries and mushrooms? Leave any of the red or purple mushrooms alone, just the brown ones. I¡¯ll go catch those birds.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m beat. Can¡¯t you just get those oysters again?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°You might get a class,¡± Orion said. I rolled my eyes. This was how Orion always got Cass and Alex to do something he wanted. They still hadn¡¯t met the strange card dealer yet. Alex sighed and got up. I could see the sweat stains darken the back of his shirt and armpits. All of us smelled of body odor and were drenched in sweat. We would need a bath soon and new clothes. Great, just another thing to worry about.


    ¡°Can I come with you?¡± Cass asked Orion, who holstered the obsidian knife he carried in his belt.


    ¡°Sure, just stay close and don¡¯t make a lot of noise,¡± Orion said while straightening his clothes as he started to depart. Orion picked up the leaf bucket I made yesterday and handed it to Cass. Cass also holstered the knife Slate made him, like his brother.


    ¡°Come back before nightfall,¡± I told them.


    ¡°What are you going to be doing?¡± Orion asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°I¡¯ll wash up and boil some more water,¡± I said, though honestly, I planned to make Slate do it while I lay down.


    ¡°Okay, but make sure you have Slate working to clear the area of those trees I told you about. Leave the bushes standing, just harvest the leaves. We¡¯ll need more leaves and logs for tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Jeez, can you relax for one second?¡± I said rubbing my head in stress.


    With the nag gone, I ordered Slate to fetch water while I went to wash myself on the beach. I took off the hoodie Orion gave me, my shirt, and my top, and took a swim. When I came back, I realized I had no towel to dry myself and instead used Orion¡¯s hoodie before putting on my clothes. I had an idea, and after Slate returned with the water pot, which I placed on the fire to start boiling, I made a drying rack.


    Drying Rack


    Quality F


    Will dry clothes and food 5% faster


    Food, huh? Orion¡¯s gonna love that. I wonder what¡¯s taking those guys so long. As I waited for their return, two figures appeared on the distant horizon which was now in full sunset, the sky turning dark hues of orange and gray. They spotted the fire in front of the hut, and I could hear distant shouting. I waved to them after seeing their modern-world clothing.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we found another survivor,¡± the young woman gasped as she approached.


    Her midnight hair was damp with sweat, and her copper skin glistened. The weather was fair, so she must have been running. The couple both looked like they were in their early 20s, though they both seemed more mature and older than Alex and Orion. So far, all the people I have met were in their early twenties or late teens. Then it hit me, and I realized why. It was the flight from Florida back to New York on the last day of March Break. We must have all been students vacationing or visiting family during the break from school or college.


    ¡°I¡¯m Ethan Tran,¡± the young man introduced, adjusting his black-rimmed eyeglasses.


    ¡°I¡¯m Anika Sharma,¡± the young woman introduced, bowing slightly. ¡°It¡¯s so nice to meet another survivor.¡±


    They both nodded in agreement. Wanting to break the silence that followed, Ethan spoke up first looking around at our newly built shelter. ¡°How did you make all this yourself, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡±


    ¡°My name is Bianca, Bianca Crestwood. I have a lot to explain, but before I say anything, please do not scream if you see a rock golem.¡±


    <hr>


    Ethan was in denial and straight-up hysterical when I explained everything to him. His previously calm voice and demeanor erupted into expletives and frantic pacing. Anika just stared in quiet observation, watching the golem hack away at another tree and carry it to the stockpile.


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    ¡°Look... it¡¯s hard to explain and I don¡¯t expect you to just believe me, but... well, trust me,¡± I reassured them.


    ¡°You say there¡¯s another one of you that can... do this special ability?¡± Anika asked.


    I nodded.


    ¡°And this is another planet?¡± Anika reiterated our whole story so far.


    ¡°That¡¯s what Orion and Cass say, but I¡¯m not sure. They mentioned something about the sky being different at night,¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°There¡¯s no scientific basis for that rock creature there. How does it move exactly? Its joints aren¡¯t even properly attached,¡± Ethan said. ¡°And magic cards? You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. We¡¯re in some kind of simulation; it¡¯s the only explanation.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, where I woke up, there were animals and plants I¡¯d never seen before. A blue seabird that doesn¡¯t resemble any animal I know of and several species of fish and mollusks that seem like they evolved differently from anything on Earth,¡± Anika pondered aloud and glanced at the sky, her eyes widening as the moon revealed itself in the growing darkness, "No way."


    ¡°It¡¯s a simulation. It¡¯s not real,¡± Ethan insisted, denial evident on his face as he followed Anika''s gaze.


    ¡°We''re clearly somewhere not of Earth. I just don¡¯t believe in the simulation theory. The amount of processing power needed to maintain such a universe is beyond what humans could come up with. We might have entered a wormhole,¡± Anika speculated, rubbing her chin.


    ¡°A wormhole? Our plane just happened to enter a wormhole? Do you know how crazy that sounds?!¡± Ethan argued, looking dizzy and on the verge of collapse.


    ¡°If what Bianca says is true, there¡¯s no way we could have survived out at sea for an entire day without realizing it. Some space and time must have been altered for it to happen,¡± Anika reasoned.


    ¡°Can I ask what you guys studied in school? You¡¯re college kids, right?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m a chemistry major,¡± Anika said still examining the moon.


    ¡°I¡¯m in medical school,¡± Ethan answered.


    ¡°Cool, so we have a doctor and a chemist. That¡¯s perfect,¡± I said, already thinking about potential medical emergencies.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor yet,¡± Ethan corrected.


    Anika wandered around the hut, examining the construction. She stared at the pile of discarded shells, our pots full of boiled clean water, and our stockpile of leaves, wood logs, sticks, string, rope, and vines.


    ¡°It¡¯s good you saved these,¡± Anika said, pointing at the seashells and empty clam shells. ¡°We¡¯ll need them. We also need charcoal. Where is the rest of the group?¡±


    ¡°Orion and Cass are hunting, and Alex is gathering berries and mushrooms,¡± I said.


    ¡°Three people seem a bit excessive for food alone. We can survive without food for weeks, but I guess you have your reasons,¡± Anika commented.


    ¡°Cass doesn¡¯t really count. He¡¯s just a little kid who always follows his brother,¡± I explained.


    ¡°And what about you?¡± Anika asked, examining a pot.


    ¡°I was, umm... well, I was waiting for you guys,¡± I stammered, still feeling sick from yesterday. ¡°We get new arrivals all the time apparently, so we needed someone to stay here and welcome them. And oh... I was boiling water, yeah...¡±


    ¡°Thank god you did. I would have run away if I saw that thing,¡± Ethan said, pointing towards Slate.


    Anika nodded and put down the pot. ¡°You guys have done an amazing job so far. I think next, we need to build a kiln to make charcoal and better pots. We also need some seaweed and more seashells.¡±


    I nodded, thankful for her help. ¡°What do we need those for?¡±


    ¡°Charcoal is a good fuel source and can filter water. We can also use it to write and make ink. Seashells can be used to make lime, and seaweed can make baking soda and other things like soap,¡± Anika explained as she sat on the leaf flooring, her legs crossed and her chin resting on her palm. When Anika mentioned soap, I thanked god she was here.


    We sat around, talking about our lives before the crash and our school life and part-time jobs, to the sounds of Slate thumping on trees in the background with his new stone axe. Anika was working as a pharmacist intern with plans to work in the pharmaceutical industry, and Ethan was preparing to enter his residency. When I asked if Ethan and Anika were a couple, they both flat-out denied it, saying they had only met on the plane today (though it felt like yesterday to them), sitting next to each other. Then Ethan raised an important question.


    ¡°It¡¯s really dark out there. Are you sure those guys aren¡¯t lost? Shouldn¡¯t they be back by now?¡± Ethan asked.


    ¡°I, uh... well...¡± I wondered what was holding them up.


    The sun was nearly set when finally, someone came out of the woods with a basket full of berries and mushrooms and a gash across his leg. Alex winced as he entered the hut, mildly startled by the new arrivals, and made light introductions before clutching his leg. His pants had a red mark and a tear through the shins.


    ¡°Geez, are you alright?¡± I asked, examining his wound.


    ¡°Some stupid boar. I tried to take it on one-v-one, but it gored me before running off,¡± Alex gasped, gritting his teeth.


    Ethan came over, looked at the wound, and said, ¡°This will need stitches and probably antibiotics.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just grab some from my cabinet, doctor,¡± I joked, which Ethan and Alex didn¡¯t find too amusing.


    ¡°Come by the fire so I can take a look at it. Do you have any needle or string?¡± Ethan asked, his serious and professional demeanor returning.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have anything except for seashells and leaves,¡± I said, now seriously worried for Alex.


    A frown crossed Ethan¡¯s face as he shrugged as if accepting he had no other choice. He grabbed a long obsidian stone and placed it into the fire. Wrapping some string around the other end to hold, he dipped it into the blazing embers.


    ¡°No way! You¡¯re not getting that thing near me!¡± Alex protested.


    ¡°We have to cauterize the wound. I don¡¯t have a needle and string here,¡± Ethan explained.


    ¡°It¡¯ll heal on its own!¡± Alex insisted, but Ethan shook his head.


    ¡°I won¡¯t force you, but the wound will fester and get infected. It won¡¯t heal properly without stitches. Out here, we don¡¯t have any antibiotics. Worst case, you¡¯ll need to amputate your leg. That¡¯s if we even get out of here. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m gonna find a hacksaw in that pile of rocks,¡± Ethan said calmly, still focused on the rod of obsidian.


    ¡°Will it hurt?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°Like hell,¡± Ethan nodded, not looking at Alex.


    ¡°Oh god. This isn¡¯t how it¡¯s supposed to happen,¡± Alex cried in disbelief.


    ¡°Alex, he¡¯s right,¡± Anika said. ¡°We have nothing out here. You need to close it up, we have no soap or alcohol. It''s just a disaster waiting to happen.¡±


    Ethan handed Alex a piece of wood. ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± Alex whimpered.


    ¡°Put it in your mouth and bite on it. I¡¯ll need you to hold him still, Anika and Bianca,¡± Ethan instructed grimly.


    ¡°Oh god,¡± Alex sighed, putting the wood in his mouth and accepting his fate.


    The cries, whimpers, and smell of searing flesh were something I wished I could forget as Anika, Ethan, and I held Alex to the ground. He writhed like he was having a seizure in our embrace. Alex¡¯s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and his body shook. He spat out the piece of wood and gave a blood-curdling shriek. I watched Ethan finish, his eyes flashing blue for a split second before a card appeared in his palm. The card, ¡°Anesthetic Touch,¡± depicted a doll with X¡¯s over its eyes and an S near the top. The card shimmered before Ethan tapped it.


    Alex went out like a light, his body going stiff as a log and flattening on the leaf floor. We all let out a deep breath as we released the now-unconscious Alex, and Ethan finished cauterizing his wound and then boiled some water to clean the wound with a makeshift bandage. Leaves were wrapped around Alex¡¯s shins and tied with string.


    As we sat around Alex¡¯s unconscious form, trying to regroup from the ordeal, two more people emerged from the darkness. Orion had the carcass of a red-feathered bird hanging by its leg in one hand and a knife ready in the other. Little Cass was by his side with a basket full of herbs, his wide eyes taking in the scene.


    ¡°Did we miss anything?¡± Orion asked, eyebrows raised.

 Chapter 8

    Chapter 8


    Orion - Day 2 of Landing


    It¡¯s amazing the kind of things you hear in the forest if you just listen. It also doesn¡¯t hurt to have a Tracking skill card unlocked after spending a short time navigating through the groves. My short time out here has made me more aware of the directions of certain things that seem too obvious now. A river to the left of me was running, and to the right of me were the loud mating calls of birds, the buzzing of a swarm of hive insects, and behind me was the annoying voice of a younger brother. Every once in a while in our trek, which was mostly uphill, we would find sticks to plant into the ground upright to mark our trail, and when we would lose sight of one stick, we would plant another and keep moving forward.


    ¡°Check this out,¡± Cass said as he showed me a black beetle with purple stripes on its back, which I waved away, keeping myself attuned to nature.


    The floor of the woods wasn¡¯t just a blended scape of greenery anymore. I could pick out individual plants and herbs lying in the foliage. I pointed to green stalks that sprouted among clovers and weeds, and Cass picked them out of the dirt to reveal wild onions, their bulbs the size of pennies, their scent just a hint of pepperiness. The trees weren¡¯t all just a uniform collection of long trunks in my path anymore; each one had its own distinct pattern and colors as distinct as human faces. Vibrant green mosses colored one, others with milk chocolate swirls, and others whose bark was as pale as chalk. One tree had a lumpy green fruit looking like a lime with tumors which, when opened with my knife, revealed mostly pits and strands of hard-to-eat fibrous flesh. When juiced, the green citrus fruit was bitter and tart smelling of bergamot and licorice. Cass stuffed a few of those into his leaf bucket. They tasted unripe but their juice and zest might pair well with the clams and other seafood.


    I held my hand out to stop Cass and put my fingers to my lips. We found our quarry at last. A flock of six turkey-sized pheasants with red feathers and a white collar in the distance were picking bugs and worms off the ground, unaware of our presence. Unlike turkeys, however, these were dainty creatures with longer legs like that of a roadrunner. I thought about the best way to catch them and hoped they were like the dodo birds who were so unacclimated to predators they were hunted to extinction simply because humans could walk up to them and catch them.


    ¡°Stay here,¡± I whispered and brandished my obsidian knife.


    Moving like a panther, I hid behind trees and bushes as I approached the flock, somehow managing to snag every branch, step on every twig that cracked thunderously beneath my feet, and trip over a few misplaced ledges on my way to my prey. When the obviously skittish pheasants noticed my approach, some two meters from where I had started, they made a break for it, scattering every which way beyond my line of sight. It took me approximately 50 meters of running before I realized that I wasn¡¯t going to catch up to them.


    At a full sprint, I¡¯d be able to catch them, but through the rough terrain and obstacles the forest presented, it¡¯d be nigh impossible for me right now.


    ¡°What are we gonna do, Rye?¡± Cass asked.


    ¡°Help me look for a huge flat rock,¡± I said as I scanned the forest floors for rocks.


    Cass located one that looked perfect for my purpose, and I helped him lift it. Underneath, we both---well, I think it was both of us and not just myself---let out a yelp as a harmless-looking leather-colored snake slithered away after the rock was dislodged. I grabbed a few worms from the dirt and cut them up with my knife. Where the pheasants were previously feeding, I placed the flat rock upright and dug a wishbone-shaped branch into the dirt to hold the rock upright. Cass and I gathered some vines and other various plant fibers and started to braid them in a simple three-strand pattern, which we tied to a branch holding the flat rock up. We planted dead worms, bugs, and wild berries underneath the rock, digging it into the soil.


    With my Crafting card up, a new temporary information card appeared to have been spawned from it.


    Deadfall Trap


    Quality D


    10% more effective against rodents


    Cass and I both waited some distance away, with the end of the rope tied to the trap in my hand. After an hour passed, Cass got impatient and started wandering near me, looking for rocks and examining insects. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, the sky¡¯s hue turning dark orange and gray. Just as we were about to embark back to base camp, a trio of the pheasants appeared, their bright feathers glowing out of some burrows. They circled the area while we waited before one decided to take the bait. When it was directly underneath the rock, I pulled the rope, dislodging the stick holding up the rock and making it fall awkwardly on the rear side of the bird. I rushed to it; the other pheasant quickly departed while the trapped one struggled beneath the weight of the rock. With my knife out, I came over to put it out of its misery, grabbing it by its neck as its head bobbed left and right. The dying creature made cackling sounds. My knife appeared over its neck, and I looked away as the edge of it came down like a guillotine.


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    ¡°Don¡¯t look,¡± I said to Cass, who just stared curiously with no emotion as I made my killing blow.


    Before it came down, I felt a sharp stabbing pain against the back of my hand as the bird pecked at me.


    ¡°Son of a---¡± I cried before my hand snapped away and right back down in brief anger, finally ending the bird. The knife wasn¡¯t strong enough to cut through the neck of the creature, but it must have severed an artery, causing the animal¡¯s blood to gush out onto my hands and the dirt below the flat rock.


    I checked my hand while the carcass of the wild bird bled out, a red pockmark where the beak struck. No blood ran where I wiped at it, but it might bruise. It was careless of me to look away; I had to learn that not all these animals out here weren¡¯t domesticated creatures or the few non-cat-or-dog animals I encountered at petting zoos.


    ¡°I heard some people drink animal blood. They make it into sausages and jellies,¡± Cass said, watching the blood seep out of the carcass.


    As grotesque as that sounded, I would have to keep that in mind next time to harvest some of the blood. Still, I didn¡¯t want to encourage my brother, so I said nothing and just removed the flat rock that held the body of the red pheasant in place. Then I took the piece of rope tied to the trap to wrap around the legs of the pheasant, tying the other end to my hand.


    I carried the pheasant to a stream where I began to dress the animal, removing its lungs and guts. I didn¡¯t know which parts were edible besides the meat and didn¡¯t want to take the chance, so I just tossed all the random refuge out. Insects quickly swarmed on it. It felt like a waste since perhaps the liver might be good eating, but I was running out of time and couldn¡¯t tell a liver from a lung. The rock might have crushed some of its organs, I thought.


    The dressing of the pheasant was our break, and when we were finished, we made haste back to camp. I warned Cass not to dilly-dally on our way back as he usually does and wander off as nightfall was approaching. We would lose track of our guiding sticks. Time. I thought about time and how we could track it. This world or planet had a similar day and night cycle to Earth; perhaps the days were longer, but that could be due to where we were on its axis. Our camp would have to set up a sundial or a way to tell time soon so we wouldn¡¯t venture out into the dark this late anymore.


    ¡°What class do you think I¡¯ll get?¡± Cass asked.


    ¡°Is there a know-it-all class or bug collector class?¡± I wondered.


    ¡°You¡¯re the know-it-all,¡± Cass said. ¡°How did you know how to make that trap?¡±


    ¡°I watch a lot of videos,¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s so cool,¡± Cass said. ¡°If you teach me how to craft things, maybe I¡¯ll get a crafting class and help you out.¡±


    ¡°Right now, just get the stay-alive class and don¡¯t get lost,¡± I said.


    Before nightfall finally came, we saw the fire in the distance down the hills. My mind was already trying to make a map of the place. I knew there was a river close, a cave close, and several streams. Even in the dark, I could track the footprints we made to the birds. To master this place, we needed to know all we were dealing with. I still disagreed with Bianca over the location of the first shelter. We would have to go so far inland to get everything we needed, but it was a good temporary location. If there was a tracking skill, there had to be a cartography skill, a writing skill, and so many other useful skills.


    I pulled out my cards while we made our way to the fire, which Cass still didn¡¯t get tired of ever seeing. His wide eyes fixated on my palms as my cards flew out of them.


    Cook - 4


    Soul Food - S


    Crafting - 2


    Forager - 2


    Tracking - 2


    Firewielder - 1


    Pottery - 1


    My skill cards were leveling up. I didn¡¯t feel like there was a sudden seismic shift, but it seemed like I had knowledge of the plants of this world innately. When I wanted rope, I somehow managed to pick the best piece of plant for it. When I constructed the trap, I somehow found the best branch that would hold it up. I didn¡¯t think I was someone like Survivorman, but it was more like my aptitude, luck, and awareness of things regarding crafting and foraging became heightened as if I was recalling long-lost memories.


    Thoughts of the system and the cards came to a halt when I heard screaming coming from the base camp. Cass came up behind me, hiding, and I readied my knife. Something was happening, something bad.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s Bianca screaming. She¡¯s in trouble,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°That screaming sounds like it¡¯s coming from a man,¡± Cass observed.


    ¡°Probably not a good time to make fun of how she screams,¡± I shushed him. ¡°Stay here, I¡¯ll---¡±


    Before I could rush forward, I realized there were three figures by the campfire holding a sleeping Alex down. One of them, a young bespectacled Asian man, was holding some black rod and branding or probing Alex, who, after a strained expression of either agony or ecstasy, fell into a sleepy bliss. The other two women were breathing heavily. They gasped and let go of Alex¡¯s body. I covered Cass¡¯s eyes to this obviously weird sexual masochistic deviancy ritual and came into the light.


    ¡°Did we miss anything?¡± I dared to ask.

 Chapter 9

    Chapter 9


    Orion - Day of Landing 2


    Population of Unnamed Settlement - 6


    If there was one thing I hated doing, it was meeting new people. I just never knew what to say to them. What¡¯s worse, in my meeting with the doctor and the pharmacist, I quickly forgot their names and only thought about how useful and able-bodied they were. How terrible it is to meet new people and immediately think about how I could make use of them around camp, but that¡¯s exactly what I did.


    ¡°Are you two¡­ together?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, no, no, no, no,¡± the chemist said, waving her hands in refusal. It seemed like she had hurt the doctor¡¯s feelings with how ludicrous she thought that comment was and how quickly she refuted it.


    ¡°Did you just arrive now? Like washed up on shore, I mean,¡± I asked.


    ¡°No, we were here at this camp for¡­ it felt like minutes, but I don¡¯t know. Before that, I honestly don¡¯t know how long I was out on the beach. I stayed put hoping to spot people washing up on shore or signs of the plane crash before I started to move,¡± the doctor said.


    ¡°Ethan and I met on our way here. I think by the setting of the sun, it was maybe four hours before we came here that we met on the beach,¡± the young woman said. ¡°Bianca told us you arrived yesterday.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yep, so it looks like it¡¯s three people per day, at least so far.¡±


    ¡°Three?¡±


    ¡°Me and Cass,¡± I pointed to the sleeping figure of my tuckered-out brother, who was beside another sleepy figure, induced into sleep by a skill called ¡°Anesthetic Touch,¡± as I would find out later.


    ¡°And¡­ Bianca,¡± I tried to recall. ¡°And then there¡¯s you three who came here today.¡±


    ¡°ALEX, ETHAN, ANIKA,¡± the angry red-haired girl growled. I didn¡¯t turn to face her wrath at almost forgetting her name again.


    ¡°It¡¯s not personal, I just met you guys a few minutes ago. I¡¯m really bad with names,¡± I apologized.


    ¡°Three more people,¡± Anika the chemist rubbed her chin. ¡°Hmm¡­ and three of you already have your classes.¡±


    Ethan the doctor, Bianca the angry red-haired girl, and I pulled out each of our class cards like we were at a Magic convention showing off our rarest card. I learned so much more just by listening to Ethan¡¯s story about his class. If I had been less panicky and more scientific like Ethan, I would have learned more about the cards through the interaction with the Stranger. Since Bianca had prepped the two newcomers for how different the new world here is, they were more ready.


    Ethan told us that he met the strange card dealer, but he was wearing a white cloak instead of my black cloak. The first card he would present upon meeting would be his class card. It was his main skill, the thing that defined his class. Ethan¡¯s class card was Doctor; his job specialized in healing. The rarity of his class was B-grade. He would draw one random card out of three, like me and Bianca later, which would be his legendary skill card.


    Ethan showed us his legendary skill card, ¡°Anesthetic Touch.¡± Ethan can administer a deep sleep and reduce pain in a person for a short while. The doctor said the card was currently blacked out, which meant he couldn¡¯t use it again and didn¡¯t know how long until it would be usable again. I didn¡¯t realize it at the time, but each of us had one unique legendary skill card, or at least we hypothesized. Mine was ¡°Soul Food,¡± which granted me buffs when I ate food I cooked myself. Bianca¡¯s was ¡°Familiar: Golem,¡± which gave her Slate, who was still knocking away at trees in the background as we theorized about the card system.


    The new arrival also had two skill cards, ¡°First Aid: 1¡± and ¡°Diagnose: 1.¡± The number marked the level of the skill he had. I showed him and the group my Crafting skill, which was level 2.


    ¡°Two¡­ Oh, oh! I think I have a two too!¡± Bianca pulled out her Build card, which showed a 2 on it.


    ¡°So, you can level up skills,¡± Ethan nodded and rubbed his chin in contemplation. ¡°Indeed it is like an RPG.¡±


    ¡°Do you feel yourself getting better at building?¡± I asked Bianca.


    ¡°A bit¡­ I don¡¯t know. Look, I built this drying rack!¡± Bianca proudly showed off her wooden drying rack, resembling a nest of logs hastily thrown together. It didn¡¯t look pretty, but on top of it was my blue hoodie.


    ¡°Hey! What did you do to my hoodie?!¡± I cried, picking it off her contraption. It was still damp, wrinkled, and smelled of soot, sweat, and vomit.


    ¡°Well¡­ look, that¡¯s not important,¡± Bianca said. ¡°Anyways, so there will be three more newbies tomorrow. What do we do?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll be three, it might be zero,¡± I said, holding my hoodie in my arms in mourning. Truthfully, we didn¡¯t know anything. We were guessing based on the pattern so far.


    ¡°He¡¯s right. It¡¯s fortunate we even stumbled onto this place, and there¡¯s no telling what the warp mechanism intends for this place or if there is even a warp mechanism,¡± Anika said. ¡°Though we still have to prepare for more people, and let¡¯s face it. We aren¡¯t that well off ourselves.¡±


    At that, we all looked at our dwindling water supply and the carcass of a dead bird, then at the bare-bones hut we built. Our empire. Everything we had in this world plus the clothes on our backs.


    ¡°I think tomorrow you have to set your golem to build a kiln and gather clay,¡± Anika said. ¡°The clay pots you have look like they¡¯re going to break any minute.¡±


    Bianca nodded in agreement and then her face looked overwhelmed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to make that, though¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a giant oven,¡± I said, nodding at Anika in agreement. ¡°I¡¯ll help.¡±


    ¡°What about food?¡± Ethan asked, his stomach growling in response.


    ¡°We can survive with food for some time, but we need clean water, to finish this shelter, and start another. If a storm hits, we¡¯re doomed.¡± Anika said.


    ¡°That¡¯s true, but¡­ food is good for your soul, you know? We need energy, and it¡¯s good for morale,¡± Bianca said.


    ¡°Then Ethan and I will work on the kiln and new pots with you, and Orion can work on the food situation. We do have more hands now. Doctor, how about Alex?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor yet,¡± Ethan corrected with a sigh. ¡°It¡¯s a cut, he might be in some pain and there will be scarring, but it¡¯s not like a fracture though I''m not sure without seeing any x-rays. We¡¯ll need all the hands we can get, though.¡±


    ¡°He and my brother can braid rope and work on the fire,¡± I said. ¡°Rope and string are so important to everything, and he can do it without moving much.¡±


    I initially dreaded getting new people, but it seemed we lucked out with Anika and Ethan. More people meant we could get more done. I thought about the cards that we all drew and the people we all drew, and for the first time since I¡¯d been here, I dared to hope. They had their tasks, and I had mine.


    ¡°I¡¯ll prepare dinner then,¡± I said, getting out my knife.


    "Be careful with those and save them, they might be useful," Anika said as I started plucking the feathers from the carcass of the red pheasant I caught earlier.


    "What? What can you use feathers for?" Bianca asked.


    "Quills for writing. I think you can also put them in pillows and bedding," Anika pondered.


    "Still trying to get your paper done?" I joked as I piled the feathers neatly onto the floor.


    "You can use them for arrows too," Ethan suggested.


    My eyes lit up at that suggestion. I was so thankful I had these two.


    "OH! Is this like a game? I know! I know! You can use them for hats too. Like, don''t some knights have a feather on their hat or there''s like an expression for a cap on your feather or something like that?" Bianca blurted.


    "Hmm¡­ if I can get some charcoal from our kiln tomorrow, I can make ink, and then¡­ what would I need to get paper¡­" Anika murmured to herself.


    "Wait, you aren¡¯t serious about writing a paper out here, are you?" Ethan asked.


    "We can write signs if we have ink and paper. We can also start mapping some of this area out," Anika said.


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    "Ohhh¡­ good idea, Anika. So people don''t get lost and new survivors can find us," Bianca said, nodding in agreement.


    While they brainstormed about making signs and paper (with our best suggestion being to use bark for now), I finished plucking the pheasant. The raw body looked more like something that left white marks on my car than a raw chicken at a grocery store, which, by the way, is probably bred and pumped with corn or soy feed to be as plump as possible. This animal looked like it constantly moved and ate nothing but roots. The breasts on my catch of the day lacked meat, the thighs looked stringy, and, to be honest, I did a terrible job of butchering the carcass. I cut off the head, feet, and wings from the body to save for soup later. I rummaged through the leaf basket of herbs and wild forage that Cass brought with him for some aromatic leaves and one of those citrus fruits, stuffing them inside its carcass.


    Finding a branch from the stockpile that Slate was accumulating, I noticed how neatly they were piled by the golem, organized by trunk size in a line across the stockpile. When I stood there watching the giant, I somehow felt a great sense of envy towards Bianca. She had an amazing legendary skill and class, and I was a¡­ cook?


    I was too busy trying to survive to think, but when I started sharpening the end of one branch with my obsidian knife, I felt like I got shafted by the system. Unlike Ethan, I wasn¡¯t a cook in real life. I liked food, I liked cooking, but it wasn¡¯t my profession or even my passion, really. I was studying computer science in school. Why didn¡¯t I get a cooler class than cook? Was it just because I cooked first on the first night?


    It was pretty stupid to be so caught up in it, and I should feel lucky I even got these magical powers, but that didn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t feel envious of Bianca and Ethan.


    When the branch looked like a spear, I wandered to the beach to wet the branch roughly before I skewered the entire bird onto it and spit-roasted it over the campfire. The fat of the bird started dripping onto the fire, making it spark and flare as we all watched in anticipation. I would have to remind myself to catch the fat of bigger and more fatty animals like boars; fat would be useful for soap, lighting, and cooking. The pheasant didn¡¯t look like it had much skin or fat on it, so I wasn¡¯t too concerned about the loss of what should have amounted to a spoonful.


    The three others still awake were busy talking and laughing in the hut, chatting about small things related to their ¡°real¡± lives back home while I turned the spit round and round, ensuring the bird cooked evenly. When the bird was decently brown and the juices coming out were clear rather than cloudy, I took it off the fire and allowed it to rest on a clean, flat stone. I brought the "tray" of the golden bird centerpiece to the camp to applause and cheers. Then, I separated the breast meat, which the girls took, while I gave a leg to Ethan and saved one for myself. As I chomped on the leg, I checked the card that spawned from my Cook card.


    Herb Roasted Scarlet Fowl - F


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl: 5% increase in top sprinting speed for 1 hour


    It looked amazing, a mahogany fire-roasted bird that seemed like it belonged in a grocery store''s hot foods section.


    It smelled amazing; the charred wooden skewer and smoke gave it an applewood scent, while the herbs inside imbued it with garlicky notes and hints of sage and black tea.


    It tasted terrible.


    Well, not terrible per se. If you were starving, you wouldn¡¯t gag at it, and clearly, Anika and Ethan were hungry. It just needed salt. A lot of salt. It¡¯s crazy how much salt it needed. Not to mention it tasted¡­ musky and gamey and somehow bland at the same time. When the others took bites, they nodded and smiled in that way you smile when you eat something terrible at a friend¡¯s house and just want to be nice.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty good,¡± Ethan said shyly in a way that made me want to play poker with him.


    ¡°It sucks,¡± I said, breaking the silence that came after. ¡°It needs salt.¡±


    ¡°Phew¡­¡± Bianca said, putting down her breast meat. ¡°I thought I was the only one. I didn¡¯t want to be the one to say it, Rye, but¡­ yeah, it¡¯s not great.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really not that bad,¡± Anika tried to comfort me. ¡°We can make salt easily; we have an ocean full of it.¡±


    I nodded. I knew I should have made salt, but there were just so many more important things to do. Sensing the dour mood as we sat around eating silently, trying to swallow the awful food, Bianca perked up and stood tall.


    ¡°Alright, whatever! I¡¯m still happy our plates are full and we aren¡¯t stuck here alone, am I right, guys? Food is food!¡± Bianca said, putting on a brave smile. ¡°We¡¯re thankful for the meal. We¡¯re thankful for the company.¡±


    ¡°Thankful for the meal, thankful for the company,¡± we all repeated in unison.


    <hr>


    It wasn¡¯t a surprise no one wanted to pick the bones clean of the carcass that was left. The group made a huge show of thanking me for the meal as they, Ethan, Bianca, and Anika, continued to talk about little things that I wished my mind would let me care about. I put the remains of the roasted bird in our two last remaining open clay pots along with the uncooked legs, wings, and head. I¡¯d save it later for broth for breakfast, but first I needed to make salt. Not feeling tired in the least, I made a quick makeshift torch and set out for the ocean with the last remaining clay pot to gather salt water.


    When I came back, the group was foraging around the camp and stockpiling leaves and other foliage they could use for bedding. Bianca pulled out her Gather card and ordered Slate, her rock golem, to gather more of those surfboard banana leaves further in the forest to place over newly foraged prickly leafy branches. These branches resembled green cotton candy over a brown lung bronchial tree that provided decent support but was uncomfortable to lay flat on directly. I lent them a hand after placing my clay pot of salt water on the campfire to start evaporating.


    After moving my brother onto his own ¡°bed¡± and making my bed next to him, I checked on the pot, which had started smoking. When I came back to the fire, a quarter portion of the clay pot from the lip to the belly had cracked open and scorched black. Using two branches like makeshift tongs, I took the pot out, revealing the grey mineral at the bottom, though it was more apt to call the pot a plate at this point. My first batch of salt came out salty but also bitter to my taste.


    ¡°It¡¯s calcium,¡± Anika said when I asked for her opinion.


    ¡°How do I get rid of it?¡± I asked. ¡°I just want salt.¡±


    ¡°Calcium crystallizes first, so when the calcium crystallizes, you get rid of it and then continue boiling,¡± Anika answered.


    Not having any pots left, this bitter salt would have to do for now until we had more pots available; the other two were being used for fresh water.


    Upon placing the beds, we realized it would be quite cramped, and some of us would have to sleep almost next to each other. Bianca suggested the boys sleep on one side of the hut while the girls slept on the other, and we shifted our beds accordingly. Ethan went into the darkness to take care of business while the girls got ready for bed. There was something unsaid that we all felt in the back of our minds: we all wanted to hop into a shower and get deodorant. It smelled at camp. Our clothes were drenched in dirt and sweat, and our bodies were now getting musky without deodorant. Anika mentioned being able to make soap from wood ash and fat, and I think we all needed a long shower.


    It was hard to sleep. I was a kid just a few days ago, used to a comfortable bed, a shower, a toothbrush before bed, and, when I woke up, a phone next to my comfortable bed, ice-cold water whenever I wanted, lights at my command. In the night, it struck me how foreign sleeping on the literal ground outside felt¡ªthe feel of ants crawling over my body, the smells, the lack of a blanket, the odd noises in the background. I heard crying coming from the female sleeping area of the hut. I didn¡¯t want to guess who it was, but it sounded like Bianca. I wanted to cry too, but I would never do it in front of my brother, sleeping or not. If I felt hopeless about this situation, he would feel bad about it too.


    Getting up after an hour of lying down restlessly beside my brother, and nearly cheek to cheek with Ethan and Alex, I came by the campfire to stare at the stars. The night air was warm, but a soft cool breeze hit my face. I grew dizzy watching the flickering of the campfire, and in a moment¡¯s flash, the light of the campfire went out, replaced by a void and a table.


    Not being as surprised this time, I prepared for the mysterious card dealer. He appeared out of the void, his face still hidden in the shadows. The specter pulled a foil-wrapped card-shaped package tied like a present with a red string. He presented me with the package, and before I opened it, I examined the board this time with an open mind.


    Cook - 5


    Soul Food - S


    Crafting - 2


    Forage - 2


    Tracking - 2


    Firewielding - 1


    Pottery - 1


    ¡°Do I get a gift every time I level up five times?¡± I asked the specter. I would try to get as much information as I could out of it.


    ¡°Not a gift. A choice,¡± the specter answered.


    ¡°Can I change my class? I don¡¯t want to be a cook. Is there an engineer class?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The cards have already been dealt. Pick your perk, holder,¡± the specter requested.


    I opened the card package and it revealed three new cards:


    Knife¡¯s Edge - C


    Your knives are never dull. The most dangerous tool in a kitchen is a dull knife.


    Health Inspector - C


    When preparing food, your hands and tools are always clean. Greatly reduces the chance of food poisoning.


    Well Salted - C


    It takes twice as long for your food to spoil.


    Before me, the Cook card was near the top of the table, the other cards branching off like a family tree beneath it. The Soul Food perk card was directly beneath the Cook card, and one open slot beside the Soul Food card was lit up with a glowing blue rectangle, indicating its openness to accept a new card. The rest of the slots on the cosmic circle next to the Soul Food card were blacked out.


    ¡°I can only pick one?¡± I asked, dreading the impending decision.


    ¡°A choice must be made. The cards are dealt. A choice must be made,¡± the specter said.


    ¡°Why? I need all of them, please,¡± I begged.


    ¡°A choice must be made. The cards are dealt. A choice must be made,¡± the specter repeated.


    I agonized over my decision. Between the three, I was stuck between Health Inspector and Well Salted as perk cards. I liked Knife¡¯s Edge, but I could always sharpen my knives myself; it would only save me time. If I could prevent food poisoning and extend shelf life, though, it would be so helpful to the camp. My ego wanted to take Knife¡¯s Edge, thinking maybe I would need it for combat, but¡­ why? There was a small part of me that thought that maybe I would need it in a magic-infused world, but if someone got sick or if people starved because of me, I would never forgive myself.


    There were ways I knew of to preserve food, like salting, curing, drying, and smoking. At the same time, there were also ways of preventing food poisoning, but it was harder to avoid cross-contamination in this environment and to have clean surfaces in this kind of environment. When stuck, I thought about Cass and which skill would keep him safe, and took Health Inspector, placing the card in the open blue rectangle on the table. The card lit up and made itself a part of the table, and I watched in regret as Knife¡¯s Edge and Well Salted disappeared.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder.¡± And with his proclamation, the specter, the table of cards, and the cosmic void vanished, leaving me back in front of the campfire once again.


    I held my new perk card in my hands, hoping I didn¡¯t make the wrong choice.

 Chapter 10

    Chapter 10


    Bianca - Day of Landing 3


    Population of Unnamed Settlement - 6


    My headache and queasiness had finally subsided. The food poisoning I suffered yesterday was finally gone, and somehow, despite lying on the hard ground, my back felt better. Maybe my body was getting used to sleeping on the ground like a tatami mat. Lots of people slept on the ground in the world, after all. I had to look on the bright side. Have to look on the bright side, Bianca.


    The morning did leave me with one problem though: I was dying of thirst, and my mouth felt like cotton balls. The pots of ¡°clean¡± water we had were drained, with just a few drops pooling near the bottom. I picked up the pot, drank the last drops, and spat them out as the remaining liquid was gritty and tasted ashy. Orion had gotten to the water first and used what was left to boil over the campfire. I asked him why he was boiling water twice and noticed he had chicken feet and other bones in the pot.


    ¡°Making broth,¡± Orion said.


    The poor guy looked like he didn¡¯t get much sleep, both getting to bed later than us and waking up earlier than all of us. Orion came over to my leaf basket to search through the forage he picked yesterday. He started chopping up something that looked like a leak and put it into the boiling pot. Our resident cook rummaged through the bag of forest goodies, sniffing leaves and brown mushrooms Alex had gathered.


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    ¡°Were you a cook before this, Rye? Did you work in a kitchen?¡± I asked, curious, sitting beside him, my eyes on the pot boiling.


    ¡°No. The closest thing I was to a cook was working at McDonald¡¯s one summer when I was 14, but other than that, I was studying computer science,¡± Orion said, not paying much attention to me as he grabbed a cracked pot full of gray salt.


    ¡°How do you know how to cook?¡± I asked.


    ¡°My mom is always working late, so I cook for myself and Cass most nights,¡± Orion said, adding a generous portion of the salt into the broth.


    ¡°At least you have some experience. I was thinking last night... I don¡¯t know why I got the Founder class. You and Ethan both know something about your class, but I don¡¯t know anything about building stuff or founding, whatever that is,¡± I frowned.


    Orion didn¡¯t say anything and kept working. I expected him to comfort me and tell me it was alright and I''ll be a great Founder, but it seemed like he agreed with my assessment.


    ¡°I leveled up last night. I¡¯m level 5 now,¡± Orion said nonchalantly, stirring the pot with his knife and giving the end of the blade a taste. That was kinda gross. Wasn''t he worried about food poisoning? He probably used that knife to cut up the raw chicken or whatever bird that was.


    ¡°Wow... already?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah. Look, when you reach level 5, you¡¯ll have to make a choice. You''ll meet our dark friend again. Just... make sure you pick a card that benefits the group and take your time with the decision,¡± Orion said.


    Great, just another thing to worry about. There wasn¡¯t a strategy guide out here that could just give me a god-tier build, was there?


    As the day broke, more and more people woke up. Cass was first after me, then Alex, who looked like he had come out of hibernation. Anika was next, and somehow Ethan managed to sleep like a log several hours after daybreak. We gathered around the pot for our breakfast and realized something: we had no bowls to serve the broth in.


    Improvising, we cleaned out the now-empty freshwater pots with broth and shared communally, splitting ourselves into two groups---the girls and Cass sharing one bowl, and the older boys sharing the other bowl.


    ¡°Now this I like,¡± Anika said, to which I nodded in agreement.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t bad at all,¡± Ethan added, smiling as he sipped.


    ¡°Rye is an amazing chef!¡± Cass said enthusiatically.


    ¡°Relax, it¡¯s not that great,¡± Orion said, a flush of pink coming to his face as he finally redeemed himself for yesterday¡¯s debacle. He pretends not to care, but he likes it when people like his cooking.


    The broth was hearty and earthy. It was a bit bitter for my taste, but well-seasoned. It satisfied both our hunger and thirst at the same time. It wasn¡¯t as good as Mom¡¯s homemade chicken soup, but it wasn¡¯t bad. It was probably the closest thing to five stars out here, though.


    ¡°Where did you find the herbs?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°In the forest up in those hills. They are everywhere if you look for them. My Forage skill kind of highlights them for me,¡± Orion answered, pointing past our stockpile of wood.


    ¡°And I found those mushrooms you added in a grove near here, but there are a bunch of boars there,¡± Alex said looking over his scarred leg.


    ¡°Do you want to go foraging instead, Anika?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Maybe for a short while. If this card skill system you all have is as useful as you say, I think I know what class I¡¯m going for,¡± Anika said.


    ¡°What class?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Herbalist or alchemist, of course. It would make sense for me if Ethan became a Doctor class. Maybe I¡¯ll get a herbalist or chemistry-related skill,¡± Anika said.


    ¡°Dude... that makes total sense,¡± Alex said. ¡°I need to go kill monsters or something for a Warrior class.¡±


    ¡°Me too! Me too! I can kill monsters!¡± Cass said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves,¡± Orion said, shaking his head at Cass sternly.


    ¡°If we finish the kiln early, I will go look around for some herbs and start making my ¡®potions'',¡± Anika said, putting potions in air quotes.


    When we finished our breakfast and morning discussion over our plans for the day, both Alex and Cass complained they didn¡¯t want to make rope and instead wanted to go hunt monsters and boars. Orion, Anika, and Ethan spent a while designing the look of the kiln and talking about the mechanics of making it, using sticks and sand to draw out the designs. Orion would be in charge of food but said to not hold our breath for lunch to be served, to harvest clams across the shore if hungry, and instead look forward to a big dinner.


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    Before Orion left to go solve our food situation, he showed Alex and Ethan how to use the fire drill. We would set up another better-built campfire closer to the entrance of the forest and away from the beach. Afterward, Orion then showed them which bark to strip and vines to gather to braid into rope.


    Ethan, Anika, and I looked at my stockpile situation. I pulled my Stockpile card out of my palm and threw it in front of me. It levitated before me, presenting the following information:


    Stockpile:


    <ul>


    <li>Wood Logs: 44</li>


    <li>Wood Sticks: 30</li>


    <li>Wood Chunks: 9</li>


    <li>Leaves: 39</li>


    <li>Tinder: 6</li>


    <li>Large rocks: 5</li>


    <li>Small rocks: 15</li>


    </ul>


    We had tons of wood. Slate had worked endlessly through the night to clear a whole section of the forest and packed the logs, branches, and leaves in the clearing he made himself.


    ¡°Are you okay, Slate? Are you tired, big buddy?¡± I asked, patting Slate on the back as he continued whacking away at the next tree, not responding to my question. His rock axe¡¯s head was barely holding onto the slot and strings that kept it together. I would have to get Orion or Slate to make another one. Since Slate could learn by watching others, I thought they could make it themselves.


    ¡°It¡¯s still amazing how this thing works,¡± Anika marveled, her eyes scanning the golem up and down.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think we have enough wood? Geez... I guess everywhere humans go, we have to deforest the entire place,¡± Ethan commented, looking around the now-cleared area full of stumps of fallen trees, a mix of awe and horror in his eyes.


    ¡°Can Slate gather mud?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°He can do it all. If I just throw my card at it, he¡¯ll harvest it,¡± I said proudly, pushing out my chest.


    We held three empty clay pots as I gave Anika and Ethan a tour of the areas of the forest I knew. Someone had marked a trail with sticks to the nearest stream, where we refilled the water. Anika pointed out an area of ochre-colored mud that looked useful for harvest, so I pulled out my Harvest card and made Slate work it. The golem stared at the mudflats in puzzlement, tilting its head at the scene.


    The three of us watched as Slate crossed the stream to the red mudflats, scooped up some clay with his rock talons, and came back across the stream towards the trail that led to our camp and the nearby stockpile. Drops of mud slipped between his ¡°fingers,¡± coating the trail with mud slime. By the time he reached the stockpile, he had maybe a handful of clay left, which he piled in front of the logs.


    ¡°I think we have to build Slate a wheelbarrow,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°How... do we do that?¡± I asked, having no clue where I could get wheels from.


    ¡°It¡¯s highly inefficient, but having a tireless magic worker do it handful by handful makes me less eager to complain. At least it¡¯s not our backs breaking doing it,¡± Anika said, and we all nodded in agreement.


    Slate had his orders, so we let him do his thing while we boiled our freshwater pots in the new campfire. The pots we managed to make yesterday were now blackened and on the verge of breaking. In his destruction of the forest, we chose a spot for the kiln closer to the heart of the land we were in and further away from the beach. The kiln was maybe a football field away from our base camp. The three of us looked around for flat, shovel-shaped rocks to dig up dirt and mud and build the fire pit the kiln was built on. When we realized we were going to be working in the mud, Ethan rolled up his sleeves and took off his jeans, revealing his navy blue boxers underneath. Anika and I both tried not to giggle while he rolled his eyes at our immaturity. I took off my white shirt, now sooty and stained, and went down to my black sports top, rolling up my pants sleeves. Anika had a long yellow kurti which she rolled to her shoulders.


    We, or rather Anika, settled on a circle shape for the kiln about a yard and a half in diameter. Besides the clay that Slate brought back from the river, which Anika said would be mostly used for pottery, we gathered mud from a closer source and worked tirelessly to make a dirt igloo. Every so often, Ethan and Anika would gather sticks and stones to layer the kiln walls to support it. When Slate came back, I had him help lift some clay over and do grunt work and he was handy as a makeshift ladder. We topped it off with a chimney and began to gather wood to place in the firebox below the kiln. After the kiln''s structure was complete, we let it dry while we headed back to the stockpile. Slate¡¯s efforts of gathering the ochre clay had piled up like a dinosaur¡¯s dung heap. We dug out the moist clay underneath the dry surface, and the three of us spent time making pots, bowls, plates, cups, and other tools.


    I spent some time making a large watering jar with a narrow neck and handles. Anika made a mortar and pestle, while Ethan made storage jars with accompanying lids. When Slate came back with another hand of clay, I made it into a cup. It looked like he observed us quietly before getting back to work. I had a feeling Slate was like a newborn; the more he grew, the better a builder he became. Hopefully, Slate had observed enough to make another kiln for us so we could fire clay pottery two at a time.


    The three of us transported our new clay pots, ready to be fired, to our dry kiln. It was past midday, with the sun directly overhead. I didn¡¯t see any signs of Orion. Cass got bored of making rope, so he came over and helped us carry the newly created clay pottery to our kiln and play with Slate. Alex, however, looked like he got bored of making rope as well, but it looked like he was crafting himself a sword, tying two sticks together in a hilt with a pointed end on the longer branch.


    Ethan handed me a torch carrying the fire of our base camp¡¯s campfire as we finished loading all the clay pottery into the kiln.


    ¡°You should do it; it might help you level up,¡± Ethan suggested handing me the torch.


    I lit the wood underneath the kiln, and it began a roaring fire. Through the holes we placed in the kiln to let in air, I could see an orange light coating our clay pots, burning bright and pure. Cass let out a "cool" remark as he got closer, but I held him back so he wouldn¡¯t breathe in the smoke.


    Kiln


    Quality - D


    Clay pots you make are 20% lighter


    Founder - Level 4


    Build - Level 3


    Crafting - Level 2


    Pottery - Level 2


    Tracking - Level 1


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you guys wash up or something? I¡¯ll stay here and feed the fire, and after you¡¯re done, I¡¯ll go myself,¡± Ethan suggested.


    I could kiss you, Ethan, I really could.


    Anika and I stared at each other for a brief moment and nodded in agreement.


    ¡°There¡¯s a river nearby I can show you guys,¡± Cass said. ¡°It¡¯s good water; I wash up there sometimes. It¡¯s near where Rye and I caught that bird.¡±


    We marched to the river, following tracking sticks that Orion left to guide us. It felt weird following a kid, but Cass was really smart for his age, so we took his word for it. My tracking skills were getting better. Instead of just taking Cass¡¯ word for it, I closed my eyes and listened for it. There it was¡ªa flowing stream straight ahead and to the left.


    I pulled out my cards to see if I had leveled up my tracking skill, as I had become more aware of the woods like it was my backyard. It was still level 1. But when I checked my Pottery card, the number 2 at the top of the card changed to a 3. When that happened, the level 4 of my Founder class card changed to a level 5. The next thing I knew, I was no longer in the forest but in a familiar dark void.

 Chapter 11

    Chapter 12


    Bianca - Day of Landing 3


    Population of Unnamed Settlement - 6


    ¡°Hello again,¡± I said with some cheer to the ghost card dealer who sat in front of me.


    It couldn¡¯t hurt to try to befriend a magical ghost who decided the fate of my class. The dealer ignored my greeting and wasted no time pulling out a package. It was wrapped in foil like a chocolate bar and tied with a ribbon. It floated towards me hovering in the air before my grasp.


    ¡°Is this for me?¡± I asked.


    ¡°A choice must be made. The cards are dealt.¡± The dealer¡¯s voice came out thin and whispery.


    I unwrapped my gift and three cards fell out and perfectly distributed themselves in a line of three evenly spaced horizontally before me before the table. My board had all my cards organized and one open slot available for a card.


    ¡°A choice huh? I can only keep one of these?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Choose the card to play holder.¡± The dealer said.


    The first card on the left was a picture of a Golem wearing a pair of boxing gloves.


    Battle Golem - C


    Aside from helping you build and do minor tasks, your golem will defend you when you are attacked.


    The card in the middle was a picture of a Golem wearing a mortarboard.


    Brain Boost - C


    Your golem learns and solves problems faster and will take more initiative as you level


    The card on the right was a picture of a Golem with a chainsaw.


    Walking Sawmill - C


    Your golem can saw lumber. The saw can not be used for combat.


    They all sounded so useful. I mulled my decision over picking up each card and weighing the pros and cons of each. I didn¡¯t think I would ever be attacked so it didn¡¯t make sense that I would pick Battle Golem. I¡¯m not a fighter and so far the animals around here have been pretty harmless if you leave them alone. Besides, Orion said I should pick something that benefits the group. It seemed like a really really selfish decision to choose a personal bodyguard over something that can help the group.


    The decision came between the Brain Boost and the Walking Sawmill perk. The difference between the two was the Walking Sawmill perk was one that was immediately beneficial. If we can get planks and straight pieces of lumber, it would help us immediately in the present. I¡¯m sure Anika and Orion can figure out how to build so many useful things with that. Brain Boost however will be more beneficial later on when we figure out how to make our own sawmill.


    I thought about the people that might be coming and the fact that we needed to build more shelter and more buildings and just more of everything and made my choice. The Walking Sawmill perk card is slotted into the empty spot next to my Familiar: Golem card. A light blue line connected the two cards, they both lit up and fixed to the board after.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder.¡± The dealer said and like a light bulb switch, the darkness of the cosmic void disappeared and I was immediately back in the forest walking behind Cass and Anika.


    ¡°Oh god, how long was I out?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Out?¡± Anika asked, her eyebrows raising.


    ¡°I... I went to that place again. You know the place with the cards. How long was I gone for?¡± I asked.


    ¡°OHH you met the card dealer? Did you ask him about me?¡± Cass said with excitement, ¡°Did you ask him when I¡¯ll get my class?¡±


    I shook my head which broke the little fella¡¯s heart. I¡¯ll ask him next time sweetie don¡¯t worry. Anika shrugged and said, ¡°You didn¡¯t go anywhere, you were here with us marching.¡±


    ¡°But... I must have been there for at least 10 minutes.¡± I said.


    ¡°Ani is right, you were here marching with us the whole time,¡± Cass said wondering if I hit my head.


    ¡°Oh... I... well it might be...¡±


    ¡°It probably doesn¡¯t take place in real-time, wherever you go when you pick your cards,¡± Anika explained. ¡°Hopefully I¡¯ll be there myself soon.¡±


    That made sense remembering what happened with Ethan. He didn''t get teleported anywhere and got his class instantly.


    We continued following the sound of the flowing river until we spotted it in sight. Upon seeing us some muskrat scurried away. The river we came to was teeming with turtles. The turtles were these long-neck cat-sized creatures that had long anteater snouts and blue veins on their backs. The water was crystal clear and flowed downhill. Anika explained that the turtles looked like they were filter feeders, sucking up algae and feeding on the impurities of the river making it so crystal clear you can see the fish swimming through it.


    Cass chased dragonflies and explored the river, I had told him not to wander too far away or Orion would kill me. Me and Anika took off our clothes, feeling a bit bashful in our nakedness, and leaving them piled up near the river on a dry flat rock. I looked around for any perverts and it looked like Cass wasn¡¯t at all curious in the naked female form. He was young but he was still at the age where he should be somewhat interested so it was curious.


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    ¡°We¡¯ll have to make detergent soon,¡± Anika said sniffing her clothes with a frown and placing it down on the rock.


    ¡°And a new set of clothes,¡± I nodded. ¡°Wait you can make detergent?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to make lye, it¡¯s important for soaps and detergents. Worse comes to worse we can also use urine.¡± Anika said casually as we started testing the waters with our feet. The water was fine but still sent a chill up my spine as I dunked myself into it.


    ¡°Urine? Like pee? OUR pee? Yuck.¡± I said.


    ¡°The Romans used urine all the time as it was used for many things like tanning and laundry. I think a Roman emperor once wanted to tax it.¡±


    ¡°Huh... interesting. Speaking of that I think we should make an outhouse next.¡± I said and Anika agreed.


    When the last of the mud and grime came off our bodies, we shook like wet dogs coming out of the river. We sat by the rocks on the riverbed that had our clothes and waited for our bodies to dry. Cass had a piece of rope tied to some rock trap thing near us and was waiting behind a bush for a muskrat to take the bait he placed under it. When the muskrat came under it, Cass pulled on it but the rope wasn¡¯t taut enough so the muskrat scattered away before the rock fell on it. I yelled at him to come back when it looked like he was wandering further into the woods to find more bait for his trap.


    After drying we put on our clothes and headed back to the base camp. On our way to base camp, Anika was pulling bark from various trees and nodding to herself.


    ¡°I think we can use it for parchment and signs. Also... I¡¯m not sure but maybe aspirin as well.¡± Anika said.


    ¡°Wow, you can make aspirin from that?¡±


    ¡°The willow tree variety isn¡¯t the same on Earth well... at least where we come from but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try. It might help me unlock a class.¡± Anika said.


    As we were walking back I took a look at all my cards with pride. My Pottery card in particular was my pride and joy. It was currently level 3 and I had noticed it had a mark on it begging me to check it out, like a notification on a cellphone. I tapped on my level 3 Pottery Card and 3 cards popped into existence before me.


    Glazed Pots


    Your pots have a coat of glaze on them making them more water resistant.


    Lightweight Pots


    Your pots weigh 20% less


    Consistency


    Increases the consistency and smoothness of your pots, which may increase value


    Like my meeting with the strange card dealer, they weren''t going to go away until I made I choice and I selected Lightweight Pots. I thought about how heavy water pots can be and if new people arrive, some of them may not have the strength to carry stuff. Glazed might have been good but eventually, I''ll learn how to glaze my pots. Magically making them lighter might be something I wouldn''t ever be able to achieve.


    Upon my arrival back at camp I went to check on Slate to see his new abilities while Anika took over for Ethan to tend the kiln. Ethan followed Cass to the trail of the river to wash up himself. Anika put a cover on the kiln and together we checked our finished pottery.


    Thanks to my Pottery skill card, the pottery I made came out better than expected, almost like a real professional made it. Upon closer examination, there was some roughness and they weren''t all symmetrical. The water jug I made was C quality according to my card and came out blood red. I¡¯ll have to ask around about how to glaze it. I¡¯ll also have to get Slate or someone else to make a pottery wheel to make even fancier pots and level up my skill further. When I checked the hut and the stockpile, there were corpses of muskrats left there but no signs of Orion. In the future, I will assign Slate to start making another kiln based on the previous design. Ctrl+c and ctrl+v, then another kiln would be constructed next to the one we already had.


    The second copy-and-paste kiln would be put on hold as I brought out my Familiar: Golem card and selected it. Besides the Gather, Build, and Stockpile cards that came up when I brought out the card, there was now a new task card called ¡°Saw¡±. I picked out one of the larger pieces of log in the stockpile that Slate had felled and thought about the best way to divide it. I would cut off the ends of the logs and make planks in my mind. I threw the Saw card onto the log and Slate stopped carrying the slop of clay to come over to the log. When I examined Slate he appeared to be just a bit taller and less snowman-like or stumpy. I didn¡¯t see a saw on his hands as his hands which were once club-like talons, now resembled four stubby finger Simpsonesque hands.


    Slate examined the log and the lines I made it on and brought one of his arms up. A blue light shimmered in his palms and a circle-spinning razor disc made out of azure radiance appeared, his hand now looked like a giant rock lollipop with a blue top. The razor disc and his hand came down on the end and sawed it cleanly off, leaving a flat top. More cuts came and Slate made quick work of the wood. I didn¡¯t know exactly what I was going to use the planks for but I ordered Slate to make more and set a work order for several logs which he started on. We had plenty of logs but no planks, that would soon change.


    Going back to the hut, it was now a buzz of activity. Orion was chopping up meat and vegetables. Alex had returned, unharmed, fortunately, and he brought two newcomers. This time, however, they were both adults. I mean, adult adults. They looked to be in their forties, maybe older thirties. The older man had a light brown goatee and a thinning buzzcut and he looked perpetually constipated while the woman had blond hair and sharp but sad eyes. The couple appeared to look frantic, the husband pacing while the wife nervously looked around.


    ¡°Have you seen children here? We are missing our children, please help us.¡± The woman was on the verge of a breakdown, her light accent telling me she was from Eastern Europe.


    The man spoke with a thicker Eastern European accent, ¡°This idiota won¡¯t tell us anything, he keep swinging sword at tree.¡±


    Alex shrugged, ¡°I told them there were no children here.¡±


    ¡°What about Cass?¡±


    ¡°Oh right, I mean he doesn¡¯t count. He said children, not a child,¡± Alex again shrugged.


    ¡°Who is Cass? We know no Cass, we are looking for three children. Same age, they are umm... how you say triplets.¡± The mother pleaded, tears in her eyes.


    ¡°My name is Marek and dis is my wife Roza, we were on the plane when it crashed. We¡¯re looking for our children. Two boys, one girl.¡± Marek had a pleading desperate look that was also dangerous, like a cornered mother bear that was willing to do anything to protect his children.


    ¡°Wait... did you two just appear now? At the beach?¡± I asked them.


    Marek and Roza both stared in confusion not understanding the question.


    ¡°Everyone here comes in three... at least so far. Oh no...¡± I explained and realized something terrible.


    If anything this made them more confused and then immediately upset. When I had explained to them what happened so far they finally got it but couldn¡¯t believe it. Their family might be separated for a day but one of their children might have come through. The hour was getting late and sunset was approaching.


    ¡°Damn, Bianca what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Yes, what is it?¡±


    I was staring at the position of the sun on the horizon and then scanned the beach and said, ¡°I think we have one more person out there. We might have a missing child on our hands.¡±

 Chapter 12

    Chapter 16


    Orion - Day of Landing 3


    Population of Unnamed Settlement - 6


    "Make sure he doesn¡¯t wander off, Alex, and stay put, Cass, for the love of God," I said to Alex, who looked glumly at his dull work order of gathering vines and making rope.


    "Why can¡¯t I come with you?" Cass begged, watching me holster my obsidian knife in my belt, knowing I¡¯d probably do some "cool" stuff with it.


    "Everyone¡¯s gotta help out, Cass, even you," I said. "You¡¯ll slow me down, and I want to get as much work done as possible."


    "B-but," Cass started.


    "Look, I¡¯ll make a deal with you. If you work on the rope and we have more than we need in the stockpile, I¡¯ll make a cool weapon for you, okay?" I promised. Hearing that, Cass was eager for me to show him how to braid the rope.


    Before I left, I went to the pile of obsidian rocks that Cass had gathered during our time here and picked out a few decent-looking ones. I began sharpening the ends. With my Crafting card active, I could replicate previously crafted items like my obsidian knife in a much shorter time. Every time I sharpened or smashed the rock to get a better edge, it broke or chipped easily the way I wanted it. I made these knives more compact and narrow, ending up with four more. I holstered the knives on my belt, tightening the leather strap of my belt to keep them in place. Eventually, I planned to make an entire bandolier for these knives when I could cure leather.


    Heading towards the area where I hunted pheasants yesterday, I followed the sound of the river instead of the pheasant feeding grounds. I wanted to wash up at the river and possibly scout for things to hunt. My Forager skill had recently leveled up to 3, probably after I cooked that meal with foraged items. As I moved along the trail, I activated my Forager card, highlighting notable plants to harvest with a blue light outlining them.


    Wild Wheat


    Wheat can boost energy


    Wild Emmer


    Emmer can boost resistance to disease


    Ratweed Garlic


    Garlic gives slight resistance to the Undead and Unholy


    Forest Potatoe


    Potatoes can boost stamina


    Flax


    Flax oil grants limited night vision


    More and more information just came to me. I would keep track of the patches of wild wheat and flax in my mind later. Wheat can be so useful for making flour and alcohol and flax would be useful in making clothes and the seeds are a good source of oil. My vision was clear and sharp, I could make out everything in the forest and remembered the meal I had at breakfast. The bone broth I ate still lingered in my stomach as well as in my Soul Food card.


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl:


    5% increase in top sprinting speed for 1 hour


    The river¡¯s water was cool and refreshing as I rinsed and scrubbed the grit and sand from my body. This was probably the cleanest the river would be until more and more passengers started coming, polluting it and eventually dumping their waste along it. In fifty years, who knows? Maybe it¡¯ll be filled with a dam of plastic bottles atop a pile of rusted bicycles. We can only hope. Observing the local fauna along the riverbank, I considered that the turtles here could make good soup and their shells would be useful. I spotted muskrats and a type of river trout swimming past me. In the distance, a group of elk with midnight fur and yellow eyes lowered their heads to drink from the river''s edge. I didn¡¯t think I could take on those elk just yet, so I settled on hunting muskrats instead. Their fur looked soft, suitable for clothing, and there was one swimming nearby, suggesting their pelts offered good protection against rain.


    There were bank dens upriver that were covered with wooden nests where several muskrats were gathering sticks. I made a mental note of the location while I waited to dry off. Once dressed, I found a clearing near the river to practice knife throwing. Using my newly sharpened knives, I aimed at a row of trees, attempting to hit the center one. My initial throws were wide and short, employing a dart-like throwing method. After trying different stances and styles, I settled on one that brought me closer to the tree.


    Feeling a tingling sensation, I became more attuned to the cards in my palmventory. Due to my practice of throwing knives, a new skill card was unlocked:


    Throwing Weapons - 1


    With the skill honed, I marked an X on the tree and stepped back further. I tested my throwing style repeatedly, hitting closer to the cross-section of the cuts I made in the tree. When I could reasonably hit the bullseye, I moved even farther back and tried again. I was improving rapidly, my throwing instincts seeming almost supernatural.


    Upon reaching level two of Throwing Weapons, my knife embedded deeper into the wood, eventually creating a hole as deep as the blade itself. Feeling confident, I headed back to the muskrat nests.


    I settled some distance behind a tree, observing my quarry. I carefully distinguished between male and female muskrats, aiming to leave breeding females undisturbed while targeting the males. The larger ones with louder mating calls were likely males. Approaching stealthily, I drew my knife and took aim. When my first throw missed wide, I swiftly drew another and struck the muskrat in the rump before it could retreat into its den. Seeing its pain, I ended its suffering with a well-aimed throw to the head.


    Cleaning and collecting my knives, I used my main knife to dress the muskrat carcass and confirmed it was indeed a male before hauling it away. I managed to add two more muskrat carcasses to my collection but lost a knife in the process when I threw it wide.


    Feeling satisfied with my hunt, I ventured back to base camp. Along the river, I spotted two familiar girls sitting in the water and decided not to bother them, as it appeared they were unclothed. While curious, like any red-blooded male, I didn¡¯t want to come off as a creep. I also noticed Cass nearby, seemingly oblivious to the girls while focused on setting up a similar stone fall trap to the one I had built yesterday for the scarlet fowls. Seeing him here eased my concern, though I was annoyed he had left camp after I specifically told him not to. Given Cass was with the girls, he likely guided them to the river, so I decided to let it slide this time.


    Not needing tracking markers, I took a different path back home to scout for more game and forage. Before reaching our main shelter, I found Ethan tending the burning kiln. After exchanging greetings, I checked on our new pots, pleased with their progress. Using an old pot, I boiled salt water, intending to extract salt by leaving the calcium deposits behind and reboiling.


    Planning to make a stew with the muskrat meat, I returned to the forest to gather yams, garlic, and wild onions. Emptying the leaf bucket of its old, wilting harvest, I realized we needed more baskets and possibly backpacks in the future. A storehouse and warehouse were also necessary, but for now, I focused on preparing the stew.


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


    Returning to camp, I heard a commotion and saw two new arrivals talking with Alex. I ignored them, leaving Alex to handle introductions and tours. Checking on the new pots, I noticed Bianca conversing near the stockpile with her golem, while Anika tended the kiln. Anika showed me samples from the now-cooled kiln, including a clay pot resembling a Dutch oven that caught my eye. After helping Anika carry our new pots to camp, I began skinning the muskrat carcasses and placed pieces of fat into the hot clay pot, using it to lubricate the interior. I roughly chopped wild onion, garlic, and yams, adding salt and water before letting it simmer away from the fire. I placed hot stones around the pot to insulate it, creating a slow-cooking effect.


    While monitoring the stew, Bianca approached with a concerned look, accompanied by two frustrated-looking strangers. Despite her staring directly at me, I did my best to shrink and hide away from her gaze, as if to say leave me out of this I''m tired.


    "We need your help," she said, her tone serious.


    I sighed.


    <hr>


    ¡°There¡¯s no way that we know if there are any missing children,¡± I explained to Bianca and the angry parents who wanted answers.


    ¡°Three per day, Rye. It¡¯s been like that for the past two days, there¡¯s at least one of them out there.¡± Bianca said.


    ¡°It¡¯s a few hours until night, what can I do?¡±


    ¡°You have the best tracking skills here beside me. I¡¯ll search in one side of the beach, you search in another direction.¡±


    ¡°If these two didn¡¯t find them on the beach then most likely they went inside the forest. There¡¯s zero chance we can find them before night and then we¡¯ll add two more missing people to the fold.¡± I said.


    ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t need this punk kid to find my kid, I¡¯ll go find them myself,¡± The angry father said.


    ¡°Marek please,¡± The concerned mother said and the two Polish couple started yelling and arguing in their language. ¡°Please, you know this place better than we do, you would be able to find them¡­¡±


    This wasn¡¯t my problem, I wouldn¡¯t know the first place to look. These people are literal strangers and they want me to go out there getting lost searching for something that might not be there. For all we know their children could be transported here a month later. I wouldn¡¯t say this to them out loud of course.


    ¡°Rye, please. If this was Cass¡­¡± Bianca pleaded.


    I sighed and nodded. Well, that was one button you could push with me. ¡°Fine, but we both head back before it gets dark.¡±


    ¡°What are your kid¡¯s names?¡± I asked knowing I¡¯d probably forget them by the time I reach any one of them.


    ¡°Peter, Julian, and Natalia,¡± The mother looked grateful, tears in her eyes, ¡°Please they must be so scared right now.¡±


    I pulled out my Firewielder card, made two torches, and handed one to Bianca.


    ¡°Hand me one too,¡± Marek said. ¡°I will search as well.¡±


    More arguing commenced in Polish as the camp stood awkwardly watching the couple''s exchange. Marek¡¯s eyes were bloodshot and I could see a vein pulsing in his balding head, spit flying as he argued with his wife.


    ¡°I¡¯ll find them if they are out there,¡± I lied to calm the situation down, unsure if I could find them. If they were smart they would stick to the beach or stay still. So far everyone has spawned in some section of the beach. But I didn¡¯t need another person running off and getting lost. ¡°You have to know that there will be only one them just based on how many people keep spawning here. You¡¯ll see all your children eventually, I promise.¡±


    Again, I wasn¡¯t sure but the situation needed to calm down. Marek paced and said, ¡°I just feel so worthless.¡±


    ¡°The more time I talk with you the less I¡¯ll have to find them so just stay here and do something useful. You want your kids to be in a good place when they get here don¡¯t you?¡± I said.


    The couple nodded and Anika and Ethan calmed them down and ushered them to the camp. Biana and I headed towards the beach. From the shelter we built, one end of the beach stretched to the top left, a path heading towards lowlands and rocky flats while the other end stretched into rocky hills. I told Bianca to go forward to the rocky flats where I had harvested clams before and she agreed telling me she had a good idea of the area. It was also an area where she would run into an impasse at an unscalable cliff and would have to turn around.


    On my march down the opposite side of the beach, I realized I should have a store of food on hand for myself if I was going to do this. If there were foods that could boost my stamina or endurance and my walking speed, it would make my constant missions around the camp a lot smoother. After maybe a mile of walking, shouting the names of missing children at the top of my lungs, the yellow sand started giving way to more rocks and gravel. I saw a set of tracks in the yellow sand lead towards the grass hills. Before me, lay mountainous cliffs and steep rocky hills. There were grassy ferns that covered the path leading up to a cliff that faced the water. A person sat there with a fishing pole and a line of wood-colored string or straw attached to it. He was short but didn¡¯t look like a child, his black rain jacket hood covering his face. His back was facing me as I approached him and he didn¡¯t respond to my greeting of ¡°Hello?" as I neared.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ are you lost?¡±


    ¡°Shh¡­¡± The mysterious man said putting his withered black fingers on his lips. ¡°I think I¡­ oh shoot!¡±


    The man pulled up the fishing line and at the end of the line hung something that looked like a snapped branch using rose thorns as the hook with the bait sadly gone. He shook his head in disappointment mumbling to himself.


    ¡°My name is Orion, I¡¯m with the other passengers who survived¡­ you should probably come with me before nightfall.¡± I said.


    The old wannabe fisherman looked to be in his 70s with a whispy gray beard and a wise face filled with deep sunworned wrinkles. He was the last ¡°passenger¡± that would appear on these shores today I presumed and unfortunately for the worried parents back at base camp, he didn¡¯t look like he was one of their children.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Herman. Herman Davis,¡± The old man said getting up and holding his hand out for a handshake. Despite his age, his grip nearly crushed my hands as we shook and he smiled mischievously.


    We talked on our way back and I filled him on the situation. Herman was a retired war veteran who worked at West Point as an instructor before he retired. He explained he was on a flight to New York to visit his daughter who was a professor there and when he appeared here he figured he¡¯d died and gone to heaven and in his words, ¡°If I¡¯m in heaven, I might as well relax by fishing¡±. The old man didn¡¯t seem to be phased by the situation and when I showed him my cards. I figured I could get a reaction from him but he reversed the situation by showing me his card.


    Class Card:


    Fisherman - Level 1


    Skill Card:


    Crafting - Level 1


    I¡¯d figure since he was in the army, he¡¯d get a military class like General or Commander but the void and dealer works in mysterious ways.


    Later, when we came back, pure disappointment was on the faces of the worried parents when we got back when they saw an old black man instead of one of their young children. Herman apologized profusely. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m not ya kids, damn shame. I''m so sorry.¡±


    ¡°They still might be out there!¡± The mother cried, ¡°You don¡¯t know if it¡¯s only three.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how to deal with these parents so I let Anika and Ethan calm them down, trying to escape the situation. When Bianca came back shaking her head to let them know she found no one, she comforted the parents. The father had gone into a rant in Polish as he paced every which way, letting us know how worried he was while his wife was sitting alone in a corner sobbing. Marek would constantly bug me and Alex asking if we had a smoke on us, a crazed look in his eyes.


    The stew pot I had left full of muskrat meat, wild potatoes, and wild alliums was still cooking and I tested the meat with my knife which cut through it like butter. I tasted it for seasoning and added more salt and chopped fresh herbs to the mix. With my class card Cook out, I checked the thing I just made.


    Muskrat Stew - C


    Hide of the Muskrat:


    Grants brief shield against rain and water - 3 hours.


    I placed the bowl of stew in the center of the shelter and we poured them into our newly fired red clay bowls. There weren¡¯t enough bowls or stew for that matter, and a few of us shared meals. I should have made more accounting for the new people. With Herman here as a Fisherman class, I could finally get some help feeding everyone.


    The group all ate except the mother who said she wasn¡¯t hungry. I got compliments but in my fair opinion, the stew was just okay. The meat was grisly and gamey. I could have used some wine and more spices. Our first, well second if you count last night, village meeting of 6, no wait 9 now was about to start and we would discuss the agenda of what we were going to do tomorrow and how we were going to find Marek and Roza''s children, if they even were going to show up tomorrow that is.

 Chapter 13

    Chapter 13


    Orion - Day of Landing 3


    Population of Unnamed Settlement - 9


    "Thankful for the meal, thankful for the company," everyone except the newcomers repeated in unison.


    "That was really good, Rye," Bianca said, putting away her bowl, with the rest nodding in agreement. There was maybe a bowl left in the pot, and while no one was fighting for seconds, it didn¡¯t seem like they had trouble eating it either, so I was pleased.


    "We have to talk about what we are going to do tomorrow," Ethan, the unofficial moderator of our group, said.


    "I have to show you all something," Anika said, reaching into her palms to pull out her class card, Herbalist. The crowd around the bowl of stew turned into gasps and congratulations.


    "When did that happen, Anika?" Bianca asked.


    "When you were out looking for those kids, I was grinding up some bark in my mortar and pestle and then boiling it to extract the salicin. When I finished, I met him. The dealer you all talk about," Anika answered. "My skill lets me isolate compounds I want at a greater yield."


    "The guy in the darkness, the man who gives us the cards?" Herman asked.


    "Exactly. Wait¡­ you too?" Anika''s eyebrows raised at the sudden revelation, and Herman responded with a wink, pulling out his Fisherman card.


    "Oh great, everyone has one of those things except me," Alex cried.


    I had wondered where Cass was because he would be crying the exact same thing, but he looked tuckered out, his head resting on Bianca¡¯s lap. Someone had filled the new parents in on the magic card system, and they were surprised but not astonished, as if they had seen the trick presented to them before.


    "Okay, so we have a fisherman, a cook, a doctor, a builder golem, and an alchemist so far," Bianca said, taking the lead. "That¡¯s two people on food. I think we should focus on getting everyone a class so we can help this community survive better. Marek and Roza, can you say what you did in the real world?"


    "I am a housewife," Roza answered shyly. "Marek is a contractor. I¡­ I used to be a seamstress if that helps. I can also cook. Please, I¡¯ll do anything if you find my children."


    "They¡¯ll be here tomorrow," Bianca said in a reassuring voice. "I¡¯m sure of it. It makes sense. Three people a day; you guys have triplets, so they will be here together. Orion and Cass were."


    "A contractor? Why didn¡¯t you get the Founder class then?" Herman asked, rubbing his chin.


    "We don¡¯t know how the system works for sure, but it helps if you do something related to the class before you unlock it. Orion was cooking, and Ethan was helping Alex. I¡­ well," Bianca looked ashamed and didn¡¯t explain her situation. "Anyways, if Marek helps build with Slate, we can make better houses for everyone."


    Marek didn¡¯t look interested at all. It seemed as if it didn¡¯t have anything to do with finding his children, he didn¡¯t care. I guess I couldn¡¯t blame him because I was sort of in the same boat.


    "Speaking of Slate, what do you have him doing?" Ethan asked.


    "He¡¯s making a whole bunch of planks," Bianca responded proudly. "I got a new skill where he can saw a bunch of planks."


    "You¡¯re going to make a shelter with planks?" Marek scoffed. "Make bricks, girl. We need more houses."


    "I¡­ well, I don¡¯t know how¡­" Bianca looked like she was out of her depth with the builder role.


    "We have a kiln now," I said. "Making bricks isn¡¯t that difficult. If you and Marek can teach Slate how to do it and fire the kiln, he can make bricks throughout the night. We¡¯ll have a pile of bricks in the morning."


    "That¡¯s a great idea, Rye! Now that we have an actual builder here, we can make good shelters. Slate can do all the heavy lifting; we just have to tell him where and how," Bianca said with excitement gleaming in her eyes, finally having someone competent at construction.


    "The woman said she was a seamstress once? Sooner or later, we¡¯re going to have to do something with our clothing situation," I said.


    "Listen, don¡¯t order her around, punk," Marek¡¯s nostrils flared. "You keep asking us to do something for you. How about you do something to find our kids, huh?"


    Ignoring the fact that I spent the last few hours trying, I sighed and said, "If they get teleported here, they will be in shock. They will be lying in a cramped hut because you were too busy moaning instead of working. Not every kid is as well-behaved as Cass over there, who thinks it¡¯s all some RPG adventure. They are going to be drenched, and eventually, their clothes are going to degrade and need to be changed."


    "What do you mean¡­ drenched?" Marek asked, fear in his eyes.


    "Tell them, Herman," I said, going back to my stew.


    Herman let out a sigh, rubbing his chin. "I don¡¯t want to break the news. It¡¯s a terrible thing whenever kids are involved, terrible business."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Spit it out, old man!" Marek barked.


    "There¡¯s going to be a storm tomorrow. I am so sorry, Marek," Herman said.


    "What?" Marek was in disbelief. "Impossible, how do you know? No signal out here."


    "Clouds on the horizon. No mistake about it, I tell ya. No mistake about it. Storm¡¯s brewing," Herman shook his head in apology.


    "No, no, he is wrong," Marek said, shaking his head, furious and afraid.


    "I reckon he¡¯s seen a few in his days," I said. "Anyways, I sense it too, and you can¡¯t risk it not coming. So we all better work hard before it hits because this shelter is going to get blown away if you don¡¯t, and your kids are going to need raincoats."


    "Oh god," Bianca gasped, holding her hand over her mouth. "They are going to be stuck out there in a rainstorm."


    "Two of them have jackets," the mother cried out. "They¡¯ll be fine! They¡¯ll be fine."


    "Where is your facking golem?" Marek cried.


    "How¡­ we¡¯ll work through the night if we have to," the mother pleaded.


    "Let¡¯s calm down. We can discuss the best course of action," Bianca said. "Marek, Alex, Ethan, Anika, and I will work on reinforcing the shelter. If we can get Slate to make bricks throughout the night, we can work on¡ª"


    "No, no time for bricks. Make tiles instead," Marek said. "Roof tiles. We¡¯ll use the planks and logs for the walls for now."


    "Okay, roof tiles. According to Herman, the storm might not hit until midday tomorrow, so that¡¯ll give us some time to work. We need to work at the break of dawn," Bianca said. "Herman can fish us some food. Orion will¡­"


    Bianca looked at me for support, and I spoke. "If Herman can fish our food, I can work with¡­ the mother to¡ª"


    "Her name is Roza," Bianca scolded me.


    "Yes, Roza, to maybe make a spinning wheel or¡­ we can use those muskrat hides to make something," I pondered.


    "Spinning wheel? Do we even have fabric?" Anika asked.


    "I saw some flax in my travels. It could do for now. I was just wondering how to tan those hides," I pointed to the two dead furs.


    "I can make something out of the tree bark, but it will take a while to cure," Anika answered. "And a spinning wheel and harvesting flax? That¡¯s days of work, Orion."


    "Peter and Julian both have jackets," Roza said. "It¡¯s Natalia I worry about."


    Herman took off his rain jacket and presented it to the mother. She thanked him for it and promised to return it.


    "I guess I can help with the shelter reinforcement," I said, shrugging.


    "No. With Slate and the rest of us, we can manage," Bianca said. "Me and Roza will search one way, and you will search the other way. We will nip those children in the bud and get them back before the storm hits."


    Somewhere along the way, we just accepted Bianca as our leader. Maybe it was the class or the fact that the rest of us were unwilling to take the role. It would be like this for a while, our frantic scrambling to get everyone used to the new system, used to the fact that they aren¡¯t home anymore where everything can be bought by a credit card down their block. We had to keep moving forward no matter what.


    "I¡¯ll need to save that stew for myself tomorrow," I said, picking up the stew pot in the center. "Try not to eat it; it has a buff that might be useful."


    "There¡¯s also something else we should do," Anika said. "We need to make a sundial and keep track of time. If we know the exact time when the survivors are coming, we can prepare better."


    "Might be no use to us tomorrow. It¡¯s a good idea, but the clouds will be out tomorrow," Herman said.


    I came to a sudden realization.


    "I can use my buffs to keep track of time. We can use a clay pot with a hole in it to make a sand hourglass. I can keep adjusting the sand until I get an hour exactly or even three hours," I said.


    "That¡¯s brilliant," Bianca said, clapping her hands in excitement.


    "If we wake up at dawn, we can track how many hours until each survivor teleports here, but we need to figure out approximately the time they do," Ethan said.


    "Sounds good. I was also thinking we could make urns or torches around the base. Orion has that neat skill so that we can set up light stops or something," Bianca suggested.


    "Good idea, but for now, if you need to work in the dark or go to the kiln, ask me for a torch," I showed them my Firewielder card.


    The meeting broke after that, with Marek insisting that Bianca show him her builder golem and how to teach him to make roofing tiles. Both Marek and Roza looked like they weren¡¯t going to get any sleep tonight with their children missing. I couldn¡¯t blame them because I would do the same if Cass were in the same situation. I worked in the dark with a torch to design a clay pot like a bowl with two handles so I could hold it upright with sticks when it was done. I poked a pinhole through the bottom where it would pour and sent it to the kiln where Slate was firing off roof tiles. The poor golem would work tirelessly without rest, firing tiles and collecting mud between firings, though it looked like he was getting more intelligent with Marek guiding him. I didn¡¯t find out until the next day that Marek would receive a Builder class card through the night and level it twice. When Marek showed me his card, the text was completely in Polish.


    The day after, Marek had woken me up just before dawn break. Apparently, he was listening to our meeting about keeping time. Marek was busy, somehow lifting a stack of tiles like they weighed nothing. He was tiling the top of our shelter with clay tiles that Slate spent the entire night firing. The golem Slate was helping him out, a torch wedged between one of his shoulder joints. Slate was ever the quick learner and apprentice to Marek, who was teaching him how to properly line the tiles across the roof. Half of the shelter was tiled with clay tiles, and we finally had three walls of planks and logs. From the outside, our shelter looked like a cottage-core open garage. Did Marek really work through the night? Maybe he had a skill?


    Wiping my eyes and feeling miserable, I did my duty and came to the stockpile, now growing ever larger, to find the clay hourglass I ordered yesterday to be fired. I turned the bowl upside down and put sticks through the handles to keep it upright. When that was done, I took another finished clay bowl and placed it beneath the upside-down bowl to catch the sand it would drip. I ate the stew I left overnight and began to fill the top of the hourglass with sand. Pulling out my buff card, I checked the time and had three hours left. I would time for one hour for now. The sand trickled down slowly, and when an hour passed, I swapped the bowl out for another bowl. I marked the clay pot with my knife at the line of the sand that would signify this much sand was needed for an hour¡¯s worth. When another hour finished, I would have my system of keeping time by swapping the hourly bowls and emptying my main hourglass bowl. I knew now it was approximately two hours past dawn.


    When Anika and Ethan woke up, I told them about the system, and then we left two pieces of a distinct marble stone next to the hourglass to signify the time, two stones (hour) past dawn. They told me they would take care of the time as we started organizing a search party for new survivors. Bianca and Roza went off in the other direction of the beach shore to search for Roza and Marek¡¯s kids, while I went off in the other direction of the beach shore for any survivors, with a certain younger brother following me.

 Chapter 14

    Chapter 16


    Orion - Day 4 of Landing


    Population of Unknown Settlement - 9


    Cass and I patrolled the beach at a steady pace. I had no idea why we should rush when we had no idea of where any of these survivors spawned. I would check the area where I first spawned and Cass showed me the area he woke up to. They weren¡¯t too far apart so if we kept walking back and forth we would find them. Further down the area would be blocked by a rocky flat where the clams I harvested were and we came upon it to look for breakfast.


    I picked one up and shucked it with my knife, eating it raw like an oyster. Not worried since my new perk card ¡°Health Inspector¡± would have protected me from food poisoning.


    Raw Rock Clam - F


    Clam Shell: Remove Chill for 1 hour


    The buff didn¡¯t last that long and the score was woeful despite my upgraded Cook levels meaning whatever scoring it gave for the Cook class card probably didn¡¯t give much points to raw or unprocessed food. I had wondered how sashimi or sushi would fare and do. I knew a lot of effort could be put into making high-class sushi, by aging the fish and slicing it correctly so maybe it gave more buffs that way. Cass interrupted my musings on my class.


    ¡°You said yesterday you¡¯d make me a cool weapon,¡± Cass said, crossing his arms while I kept track of the time with the buff that came up upon eating my clam. It was currently 9:00 am if I would base dawn at approximately 6:00 am.


    ¡°Listen, a lot came up. I¡¯ll still make one for ya but we gotta find these kids first. Aren¡¯t you excited? You might get new friends.¡± I said.


    ¡°I rather have a class than friends. They¡¯ll probably slow me down,¡± Cass said, a brutal look on his face.


    ¡°You¡¯ll make a real nerd one day. I envy the tech companies you¡¯ll swallow up.¡± I said.


    Following the trail of someone had led me to level up my Tracking to level 3. An option was presented to me with three cards available for me to choose from.


    North Star


    Always know where North is.


    Track Detective


    Highlights tracks and distinguishes them with colors


    Scent Mark


    Leftover scent trails can lead you to wild game


    I selected Track Detective. Making a compass would be fairly easy once we find a lodestone and right now there was no problem with finding wild game.


    With my tracking skills acquired from my Tracking card, I picked up the freshly made footprints of another person on the beach that wasn¡¯t ours and followed them. I didn¡¯t have to use a skill to track the prints as they were quite visible in the untouched yellow sand. My new tracking skill would allow me to see even fainter tracks and footprints that were made and even how long ago this was made. It would highlight them in faint color, this one a military green. Not vibrant mind you, just faint like seeing flashes or bubbles in your eye every so often. The tracks we were following were made by one man not so long ago. I suspected it was an old man by the way he walked with a slight limp, his right foot dragging the left.


    ¡°I just want to be helpful like you,¡± Cass said marveling at my skills, ¡°I know these kids are probably going to be a huge drag and everyone will hate them.¡±


    ¡°Nobody will hate them, they¡¯re kids. You¡¯re one too. The best way you can be helpful is to stay put at base and not get into trouble. What class would you even want?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I want to be a hero,¡± Cass said pushing out his chest and doing a Superman pose. ¡°In these types of situations, there is always a hero class.¡±


    ¡°What happens if you end up in a miner or lumberjack class? Herman is a war veteran with more knowledge about fighting than you and he ended up a Fisherman.¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s cause Herman wants to be a Fisherman, Rye, DUH. He is old, he is probably tired of fighting.¡± Cass explained.


    ¡°The boy¡¯s right.¡± The maker of said tracks I was following grinned as he came behind me carrying a bluefish in one hand and a newly improved fishing rod in his other.


    ¡°You¡¯ve already caught a fish? That¡¯s amazing Herman,¡± I said, marveling at the bluefish in his hand, it was the size of a loaf of bread with scales that shimmered like metallic blue dimes.


    ¡°Waters here full of them. I figure it is because we haven¡¯t overfished the hell out of the critters yet. Practically jumped on top of me. I¡¯ll be a master Fisher in no time if it¡¯s this easy.¡± Herman grinned and showed us his Level 2 Fisherman card. Cass was over the moon with envy and wonder.


    ¡°I forgot about making lunch for the crew¡­ can you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t no cook but I figure I could roast this thing over the fire and make something mighty tasty. I¡¯ll take care of lunch and dinner while you look for those kids. Can¡¯t do it all by yourself now. Takes a village and all.¡± Herman said waving while he walked back to camp.


    Somehow it felt better. I underestimated Herman. With Marek here helping to build, Herman providing fish, and Anika providing science, I felt alive with hope. We might make it, I just got to find these kids so we don¡¯t have an angry Pole on our asses destroying the camp.


    ¡°What do you have that pot there for?¡± Cass asked sometime later as we continued searching, pointing at the small clay pot I held.


    ¡°It¡¯s the stew from yesterday,¡± I said.


    ¡°Cool. So like a portable lunch?¡± Cass asked.


    ¡°Something like that, it¡¯ll give me a buff in case a storm comes,¡± I answered.


    ¡°Storm?¡± Cass asked tilting his head and looking up, ¡°Oh right.¡±


    And as he asked I felt it, a drop of water land smack on my shoulder. I placed my hoodie over my head and looked above to see dark clouds slowly trickling rain down. I grabbed Cass and then swigged on my pot of stew.


    Muskrat Stew - D


    Hide of the Muskrat (3:00)


    Grants a brief shield against rain and water


    Cass looked annoyed as I carried him and started running back to camp. I covered his body with my own, the buff making a mini shield that made the rain slick against my skin and ¡°armor¡± like a layer of oil was covering my entire body, and said, ¡°I have to drop you off at camp.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind rain,¡± Cass shouted over the pouring rain.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get wet, cold, and sick. Just stay put at camp,¡± I commanded in a voice that demanded no talkback.


    When I came back the front walls of the shelter were finished while Slate acted as a door. Outside the shelter, red water containers were collecting rainwater. Slate moved aside when I greeted him and quickly back into place before the wind and rain came through. Inside all the survivors except Marek and Alex were crowded there. Anika and Ethan had moved the hourglass inside while Bianca was consoling a sobbing Roza who was muttering to herself in Polish. The survivors had moved most of the other non-water pots and other tools, inside.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Marek and Alex?¡± I asked.


    ¡°He went out looking for his kids. Took my jacket and Alex as a guide,¡± Herman said, a dour frown on his face.


    ¡°We tried to stop him but he insisted,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°Please, you got to bring him back,¡± Roza cried. Both she and Bianca looked drenched and barely managed to escape the storm.


    The winds were pushing hard and testing the golem and Marek¡¯s handiwork but the shelter held. Rain was getting in though, with small puddles forming in spots on the leaf flooring near the walls and clay pots catching other leaks.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go look for them,¡± I said, swigging some fresh water and making my departure. I left the stew pot after finishing it to refresh my buff and took my knives. The makeshift Golem door parted away as I left.


    I heard a female voice shout ¡°Stay safe!¡± as I departed and activated my Tracking skills. Even without my skills, I could see freshly made footprints in the now mud. Two heavy and flat pairs of footprints which I assumed belonged to men, one with a pair of Air Forces and the other with a pair of boots ran down the path into the forest.


    ¡°Those idiots,¡± I muttered to myself.


    The path the two took diverged from the markers I left and instead of going up the hills to the river, it would wind down to the stream. From there there was a clearing with a tree stump that led to a cave. Now I saw three more pairs of footprints converge and go into the cave. The three tiny ones that went into the cave were made earlier and came from the beach and the two adult men¡¯s footprints were made just recently. I couldn¡¯t believe Marek and Alex actually found them. They must be seeking shelter from the storm in the cave.


    A light emanated out to the cave entrance, drawing me in. I ventured forth and slate gray walls led to a rusty iron door with two stone torches embedded in the wall lit next to it, their fuel source unknown. Touching the iron latch to the door made a new card appear in my palms and I picked it up.


    Thornhill Dungeon


    Greetings Holder


    Now that Thornhill (Current Founder: Bianca Thornhill) has reached a population of ten people in your colony you are granted access to a Dungeon (LV.1)


    On the back of the card it read:


    Every day the dungeon configuration is randomized and enemies and loot are refreshed. Venture deeper to gain more rewards or turn back if it¡¯s too much.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Leaderboard of Thornhill Dungeons


    Alex Ryder - Floor 1


    Julian Zajac - Floor 1


    Marek Zajac - Floor 1


    Natalia Zajac - Floor 1


    Peter Zajac - Floor 1


    Overall Leaderboard of the Veiled Realm Dungeons


    Lian Xin - Floor 21


    Han Xin - Floor 21


    Tao Xin - Floor 21


    Aurelian - Floor 19


    Seraphina - Floor 19


    I had no idea who those other names were but I recognized the names of those under Thornhill Dungeon. Was this place called Thornhill just based on Bianca¡¯s last name? It didn¡¯t matter. The converging tracks led past the iron doors. Whether I liked it or not I was going to have to dive into this dungeon to get the five out.


    When I passed through the dungeon, I examined the floor. Several tracks of large four-legged creatures looked to be patrolling the area, and three tracks belonging to small children diverged to a pathway on the right. Since all of the children had no classes they had no clue this place was a dungeon and probably thought it was safe enough to venture in. Two more tracks went after them, though the tracks were made more recent.


    The first level of the dungeon had hallways several stories high and lined with mossy rock pillars with vines with purple flowers growing from them. The halls of the dungeon were made of smooth flat dirt and wide enough to let a school bus through. It was a maze of stone and floating lights that your hand would phase whenever you reached for them. The lights were like wisps that moved like searchlights through the hallways of stone. Most of the areas of the dungeon were well-lit but some paths led towards dark corners, rooms, or dead ends which the people I was tracking were avoiding, instead choosing to stay in the path of the light. Using my Tracking card skill I located the direction in which the three kids went, the two other men going in a different direction at the fork in the hallway splitting into two corridors.


    It was only floor one so how bad could this place be? It certainly gave me the creeps and so far there were no monsters, following the tracks to a right turn. Down more wide corridors with many pathways that led to even narrower pathways, I would follow the path of the three children, their footprints now looking more frantic as if they were running. It looked like a four-legged creature roamed this maze of stone hallways and followed the three children after catching a scent or sight of them. Panic-stricken my body moved in greater haste and came inside to see a long scaly tail attached to the charcoal fur of a giant rat, the size of a cougar, sniffing a giant treasure chest at a dead end. The rat was ferociously clawing and biting through the wood of the chest with its yellowed stained incisors, spitting out splinters with every gnaw. Inside the chest, I could hear faint sounds of wailing and children screaming.


    Slowly I crept behind it and readied my throwing knives while it gnawed away at the screaming chest. One came out shorter than I wanted and dug itself straight into the right hind leg of the creature. Another quickly came out when the rat turned around to face its assailant and dug into its left eye. A loud hiss came that tore the air and pierced my ears causing me to wince. I threw my last knife at it to hit straight at its gullet. Sensing an opening, I drew my main long knife while it was stunned and dug it right through its skull. Another two stabs through the top of the head and my knife was completely done, the blade cracking away from the hilt, lodging into the skull, and breaking on impact.


    With the animal killed, I acquired two more skill cards to my growing collection:


    Stealth - Level 1


    Path of the Dagger - Level 1


    In addition to my new skill cards, my Throwing Weapons skills had leveled to 3 presenting with three options:


    Deadly Shot


    Increase chance to deal a critical strike with a throwing weapon (120s CD)


    Ricochet Shot


    Throwing weapons that miss have a chance to bounce back dealing a smaller amount of damage


    Quick Draw


    Draw your throwing knives 10% quicker


    After selecting Deadly Shot, I fetched my throwing knives and cleaned them on the fur of the dead rat. Examining the corpse of the rat to make sure it was dead, the flesh of the rat was rotted and dark magenta, near black. It looked like flesh that had been festering for weeks, constantly being revived and infused with some ichor. A blue magic card with a coin appeared before the corpse and two coins came into existence out of the card. The card disappeared after leaving only the two coins on the ground which I studied. The coins look like poker chips made of glass and in the middle, blue strands etched a portrayal of a jester¡¯s face. Pocketing the two coins, I opened the treasure chest find three young children with their hands over their heads, tears streaking down their pale white faces. They yelped before coming to the realization the person in front of them was another human being.


    ¡°Are you guys Marek and Roza¡¯s kids?¡± I asked, forgetting all their names, to which they nodded.


    With that, their sobs stopped and relief came over them as they met their rescuer. I helped them get out of the treasure chest and they handed me a new knife, which one of the boys held as a last resort, as a reward which they said they found in the chest. The long knife sheathed in a leather holster boasted an ivory handle adorned with intricate bronze inlay attached to a straight blade of copper.


    Copper Knife of Quickness - D


    Attack Speed increased by 10%


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you kids back to your dad. He¡¯s in here somewhere, I¡¯ll find him.¡± I holstered my new weapon.


    The two boys were drenched from the outside rains, the brown hair on their bowlcuts darkened to black and dripping with water. They had at least jackets on to protect them from the cold, granted they weren¡¯t waterproof jackets. The lone girl of the triplets however had nothing but a pink t-shirt and overalls both drenched, and her shivering legs could barely hold herself upright as the dungeon¡¯s chill air hit her body. I took off my hoodie, wrapped it around her and the three followed carefully behind me like little ducklings. I followed the foot tracks they made back to start and came to a fork where the two male footprints diverged from the children.


    "Listen if you see danger, stay behind me or run back," I commanded.


    Past a maze of long corridors, we followed the tracks to another dead with an open empty chest. At this point, the tracks turned around back to another fork and towards a large open room. I warned the kids to hide back and hide in the treasure chest if something happened as we came forward, cursing and shouting out ahead. Another much larger rodent than the one I had slain before stood near the center of the room, its back full of spiky hairs up its spine. A yelp came out of the group of children at the sight of the new giant rat. The rat didn¡¯t notice our approach, its back turned to me as it was facing Alex and Marek. Marek had his fists up but Alex held a plain copper sword in his shaking hands.


    The children retreated to the hallway we came from and I readied my knives. As the giant rat rushed forward to charge the two men, I pulled out my new skill Deadly Shot, and a bolt of obsidian struck the hind leg of the creature. The rodent recoiled, bared its fangs, and fixed its full attention on me. My Deadly Shot was now completely blacked out, so I threw another knife without it activated which I threw for its eyes but the creature bore its head down in a headbutt charge. With my new looted Knife of Quickness in an extended hand, I batted the knife before me side to side furiously like a fly swatter at it as it came charging. My swings were desperate and frantic but whizzed through the air making a whistling sound.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming Orion!¡± Alex screamed as he charged with his sword.


    One of my slashes through the air caught the giant rat on its nose as it charged, its hot blood splattering over my face. The creature then let out a loud hiss as a sword thrust from Alex ripped through its spine. I slammed the knife down as it seized on the monstrous rodent¡¯s skull, the knife this time easily breaking through its skull and ending it. Loud pants came from the two slayers of the giant rats as we both watched its final swan song.


    I saw a huge grin on Alex¡¯s face and then he reached in his palms to pull out his new class card. The painting on the card depicted a warrior pulling out a sword out of the stone and the description on the class card read, ¡°Hero.¡± S Class. I congratulated Alex genuinely feeling happy for him but at the same time on high alert, scanning the dungeon for more enemies.


    Marek cried out ¡°Dzieciaki!¡± and ran past the two of us towards his kids. Tears were in his eyes as he gathered his children in an embrace. We let the father have his reunion as we studied the gold coins that were dropped near the floor when the rat died.


    In the main room where we fought, there were two sets of stairs side by side in a wall. One that led down into darkness and the other that led up to light. A treasure chest glowing blue light was placed in the center before the stairs and I let Alex do the honor of opening it. First Floor First Completion Chest was presented to us as a card. When the chest opened it presented 3 cards to choose from.


    Leather Cuirass of Healing - D


    Will heal wounds on your chest slowly


    Boots of Stealth - D


    Will make less sound as you walk


    Quiver of Lightness - D


    Arrows and bolts stored in this will weigh 10% less


    Alex decided to pick the Leather Cuirass on his initiative and the treasure chest disappeared leaving a few of those glass coins which we split. My total now came to four jester coins.


    ¡°I¡­ I mean we can share it,¡± Alex said apologizing but a wanting look in his eyes as he held the Leather chest piece.


    ¡°You can have it,¡± I said shrugging. ¡°It makes more sense for a melee fighter class to have it. I¡¯m more ranged anyways.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alex nodded, picked up the armor, removed his jacket, and put the chestpiece over his damp shirt. The way Alex wore it made it look like he had hockey pads on at a casual pickup game and not a fantasy fighter. ¡°It¡¯s pretty light.¡±


    Marek was carrying his daughter with his two sons behind him and greeted me with a nod. It was the first time I ever sensed any goodwill coming from him and I gladly accepted it. Alex paid the family no heed as his gaze drifted to the dark stairways that went down, his look one of hunger. This was only the first level. The rats for all their terrifying appearance were slow, stupid, and had little in the way of armor or protection. It would only get harder from here.


    ¡°I think the two of us can go further, Orion,¡± Alex said, determined.


    ¡°Not today, let¡¯s get Marek and his kids back,¡± I said patting him on the shoulder.


    Disappointment etched the lines of the Hero¡¯s face in a frown but he nodded and the six of us took the doors up to the light, through a familiar iron door to find us outside of the dungeon and in the cave once again.


    The torches on the door behind us extinguished and Alex prying the door latch found it to be closed for the day. I could see him examining the leaderboard of the dungeon with determination.


    ¡°Who are these other people? These Xins, Aurelian, and such, Orion?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°I think we probably don¡¯t want to find out, not yet,¡± I said.


    Alex was deep in contemplative thought as we rushed back to base camp in the dying storm. I asked him what his class skill perk was and he showed me it was ¡°Man of All Seasons.¡± He would learn more skills quicker and they would degrade slower. Alex already had a level 1 Path of the Sword skill card and also had a level 1 Pottery and level 1 Crafting card in his deck. I thought about how much Cass was going to freak out when he learned about Alex¡¯s class and asked him not to encourage Cass.


    ¡°Orion, we going to do it tomorrow, right? The Dungeon.¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I have a lot to do back at base. We wasted-¡° and then I looked at Marek apologetically, ¡°We had to spend a lot of time finding Marek¡¯s kids. It¡¯d be selfish of me to forget my responsibilities here.¡±


    ¡°I need a party man. You can be ranged, I¡¯ll be melee. If we get a healer like Ethan, we can go far I think,¡± Alex begged, again another look of greed and anticipation in his eyes.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it after we get back, with the group,¡± I said.


    It wasn¡¯t quite dark yet as our party made it to the main shelter past the now-paused kiln. The rains and winds were now easing, and the once shaky shelter held firm in the distance. Marek was carrying his daughter with Herman''s raincoat on, her arms wrapped around his neck inside the shelter of her father''s embrace while he held the hands of his two sons. The golem stood aside as we made our approach and inside a mother reunited with her children, cries of joy and happiness erupted, and we ate fish that Herman caught together. For a while we forgot our troubles and the tent was filled with mirth, the sound of children, and a group of people who all felt like true companions. I didn''t realize it at the time but those were the good times. Everyone who sat at their eating faced one direction together. As for myself, I faced a huge problem being caught between wanting to go deeper into the dungeon and helping the community.

 Chapter 15

    Chapter 15


    Bianca - Day 4 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 12


    The fish that was served wasn¡¯t bad. It was roasted over an open fire, and we ate it with a sprinkle of sea salt and the juice of an unripe citrus fruit, which gave it a nice zest. We ate it family-style with a newly minted clay lantern in the center of the hut. Orion lit it with his Firewielder skill and fed it with resin he foraged. Orion commented that the fish gave him a buff that increased how long he could hold his breath underwater, whatever that meant. The atmosphere was light with conversation, children laughing, and the final raindrops of the dying storm beating on the new clay-tiled rooftop. The mood was positive since everyone was home safe and sound. Home. What a strange word to call this place.


    ¡°Thankful for the meal, thankful for the company,¡± everyone but the newcomers said in unison, which the newly rescued children then repeated, and their parents followed as a good example.


    ¡°Save some of those fish bones; they could be useful for needles and other tools,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°Can¡¯t leave anything to waste, it seems,¡± I said.


    ¡°When we have to find a place for a garbage dump, that¡¯s when we know we¡¯ve made it,¡± Orion said, checking the front of his teeth with his tongue. ¡°For now, we have to be like the Native Americans and use everything.¡±


    ¡°About this dungeon...¡± I began, holding my head down in apology. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but it¡¯s my fault those kids got in there. I didn¡¯t realize when the card was created that it was opened so close to us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Orion reassured. ¡°It must be because they were triplets that they all spawned in at the same time. There¡¯s no way you could¡¯ve seen it coming.¡±


    ¡°I think we ought to close it,¡± I said, knowing how some would take it.


    ¡°What? No way!¡± Alex cried. Cass was not happy with the decision either.


    ¡°Bianca is right, yes,¡± Marek said in his thick Polish accent. ¡°I don¡¯t want my children playing in there like it''s Lord of the Rings or something.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous. If any of you get hurt, we don¡¯t exactly have the equipment to save you,¡± Ethan said. ¡°I don¡¯t have antibiotics, bandages, or splints yet. We don¡¯t even have alcohol.¡±


    ¡°Anika is a herbalist and Ethan is a doctor. They have skills and can make potions, right?¡± Alex argued. ¡°We can probably find potions in there too. It¡¯s not a big deal.¡±


    Anika and Ethan looked at each other, unsure, shaking their heads. Orion remained silent on the issue, looking like he was contemplating deeply about it. Herman was also quiet, mostly because he seemed out of his element whenever we talked about the video game elements of the world we were in. Alex continued his case, pleading with desperation in his eyes.


    ¡°In these isekai stories, the main character goes into the dungeon and finds a whole bunch of loot that helps the village out,¡± Alex explained. ¡°I can upgrade the village by diving deeper into the dungeon. That¡¯s why it¡¯s there!¡±


    ¡°With what? That armor you¡¯re wearing is to protect yourself FROM the dungeon,¡± I said. ¡°If you get weapons, you¡¯ll use them to fight more stuff INSIDE the dungeon. How can we use the coins you bring back? There are no vending machines out here.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be important later on, trust me,¡± Alex said.


    ¡°Orion, what do you think?¡± Anika asked, prodding at the young cook¡¯s silence.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°The knife I got there was far more useful than anything I can make out here, barring the creation of an iron forge. The giant rats there could make good pelts if we can actually carry it back here,¡± Orion sighed. ¡°Bianca is right, though. I know Cass is going to try to go in there, and if any of us get hurt, it¡¯s over. There¡¯s no game plus or reviving here, Alex.¡±


    ¡°Dude, we stomped those rats in there. Sure, ban the kids from going in, but I¡¯m a Hero class. I¡¯ve got to level up in there,¡± Alex pleaded, almost whimpering.


    I didn¡¯t know Orion that well yet to presume much about him, but I knew he was struggling with this one. He usually made his feelings well-known about a topic, but for this, he was probably caught between wanting to level up and protecting his brother.


    ¡°It¡¯s up to you, Bianca,¡± Orion said. ¡°You hold the dungeon keys, you decide.¡±


    ¡°Everything here involves some risk, and... right now, I¡¯ll only allow Alex and Rye to go in. If we get more fighter classes or a wizard or something, I¡¯ll let them go in. But Alex, you¡¯ve got to promise me something,¡± I said.


    ¡°Anything,¡± Alex agreed.


    ¡°The minute you or Rye get hurt, you get the hell out of there. Even one tiny scratch. You go out. No risks, mister! Just fight rats and low-level creatures. If you or Rye get hurt, I will close it. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Of course, of course. I¡¯m not stupid; I know how to grind. I am the hero, after all. What¡¯s the worst that can happen?¡± Alex laughed, and everyone under thirty groaned.


    ¡°There¡¯s a more pressing issue,¡± Orion sighed. ¡°In the dungeon, there is information that shows this is part of a larger land called the Veiled Realms. There are unknown people on a sort of leaderboard who have reached floor 20. We could barely finish floor 1.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what---¡± Ethan stammered nervously, ¡°That means... we aren¡¯t alone in this world?¡±


    ¡°Not only are we not alone, but we are greatly outmatched. If they have people who can descend to floor 20, that means they are powerful.¡± Orion looked far off in the distance as if contemplating the future, his voice filled with exhaustion.


    ¡°Should we try to make contact with other people? If they are part of a strong settlement, we can get the supplies we need. We may even be granted refugee status,¡± Anika suggested.


    ¡°Refugee status? I don¡¯t think this world has a UN or governing body. More than likely, we are some uncontacted tribe, and they could very well be the Spanish conquistadors,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°We don¡¯t even have horses or boats yet, let alone a map to find them. We should focus on building here until we get more information,¡± I decided, and with their silence, I took it as agreement. One did speak up, however.


    ¡°I can defend us if the natives here try anything. Just wait until I level up in the dungeon.¡± Alex clenched his fist, and the rest of the group looked at each other, unsure. A new, unknown world had opened up. Before, we felt like we were on some small island all alone, but suddenly the darkness outside our dimly lit refuge grew expansive, making us all feel small, weak, and ignorant. We were a tiny minnow in the deep sea swimming blindly past monsters.


    Later, we discussed our non-dungeon plans for the next day. I saw Orion talking to Cass, getting him to promise him something, and then caught up with him.


    ¡°Rye, can we talk alone?¡± I asked him.


    Orion looked suspicious as I approached him as if he expected me to stab him, but he followed me as we walked to the beach, him carrying a torch.


    ¡°What were you talking about with Cass?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Oh? I just made him promise on our mother¡¯s soul not to go into the dungeon until I think he¡¯s ready,¡± Orion said. When we faced the water, he spoke up again, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°I know you want to go into the dungeon,¡± I said.


    ¡°I said it was your call,¡± Orion shrugged, acting as if he didn¡¯t care, but I could tell he wanted to go in.


    ¡°I did it to keep you two happy, but we need you, Rye. Around the camp, I mean. I know you want to have your adventures and have fun, but if something happens to you in the dungeon, then we are screwed.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t get hurt. But I think you value me too highly and yourself not enough,¡± Orion said, showing me the tiniest bit of warmth. ¡°I¡¯m just a cook class. I don¡¯t have a golem that can magically build stuff, and Herman can fish for food. Eventually, you¡¯ll get more people with their skills, and you need to build this place in a way where no one is irreplaceable.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s okay to just go inside some dangerous place with a death wish?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful. I have Cass to take care of, remember. Someone has to keep Alex in check down there, and... it¡¯s dangerous, but I think it can be rewarding in the long term. Despite how crazy what Alex says sounds, he might have a point,¡± Orion said.


    I let out a frown as it seemed he made his decision and nodded, ¡°Just be careful.¡±


    He patted me on the shoulder, and we walked back to the base camp. I noted then just how much bigger he was as if he had grown overnight in the dungeon. Stubble was starting to grow on his chin. He would walk his own path now, and that would mean he would be a different person. That was a path I couldn¡¯t walk with him. A part of me felt a twinge of sadness that this meant we were going to eventually walk in different directions away from each other.

 Chapter 16

    Chapter 18


    Orion - Day 5 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 12


    The harder you worked, the more it distracted you from worries like, "Will I ever get back home?" or "I just want to sleep on a comfortable mattress." As joyous as the reunion of the triplets with their parents was for the group, it meant there were three more mouths to feed, shelter, and protect in camp. The children could only help with basic tasks like boiling water and foraging. Marek and Roza tried to minimize their burden, having them fetch fresh water and make salt from seawater. However, making kids do hard labor was something most of us couldn''t stomach, and they didn''t have the attention span for it anyway.


    As for working hard, we piled the workload on ourselves. Before Bianca went to bed, she ordered Slate, her builder golem, to dig a huge hole and cut up a lot of trees into planks. When we woke up, another sizable chunk of forested land was cleared, and the growing stockpile was filled with logs, sticks, and planks for us to use. The hole itself was in between the river and our beachfront camp, marking our expansion from the beach shelter closer to the inland river. The hole was for our next project: an outhouse, with some of the newly created planks and logs going toward its construction. Anika suggested we leave a large clay pot in the outhouse for people who wanted to donate their urine to create ammonia, a practical suggestion despite our initial reaction of disgust. Marek oversaw the operation, and without the ability to craft or forge nails yet, he used a Japanese technique of carpentry called miyadaiku, with Bianca and Slate¡¯s Walking Sawmill following his instructions for the simpler kigumi hinges and joints.


    When Bianca wasn''t advising Slate on Marek''s instructions, she was busy making pottery, including clay lanterns, small lidded pots, cups, and bowls, to prepare for the wave of arrivals.


    Ethan and Anika were busy making lime, ash, and charcoal all day. The charcoal would help create signs, a makeshift water filter, and fuel. Anika told me lime was crucial for starting a civilization and would be needed right away for the outhouse. Roza took over watching the children, having them play near her, or performing simple tasks like harvesting flax. My Crafting card skill was coming along nicely, and I was busy trying to make a spinning wheel with Slate cutting the pieces I needed and Anika advising. Herman was fishing, and we ate a bream for breakfast that he caught early in the morning.


    Two distractions I had to deal with were Alex pestering me to go to the dungeon and my younger brother brooding. Cass was sullen when he learned of Alex¡¯s Hero class and was restless to get a class himself. I paused the creation of my spinning wheel to talk to Cass, who was glaring at me while I worked.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you playing or hanging with the other kids?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You promised me you¡¯d make me a weapon,¡± Cass said, his arms crossed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been busy¡ª¡±


    ¡°You always say that,¡± Cass interrupted.


    ¡°Rion, can we go to the dungeon now?¡± Alex interrupted before I could respond to Cass.


    ¡°I have a lot to do around the base, and you should probably help out too,¡± I responded, digging my knife into the disc of wood without looking up to meet Alex and Cass¡¯s disappointment.


    ¡°Forget that, we can get clothes in the dungeon,¡± Alex insisted.


    ¡°I can go with you,¡± Cass brandished his knife, as threatening as a kitten with it.


    ¡°Cass, you promised me you wouldn¡¯t go in the dungeon until I think you are ready. On your mother¡¯s soul, remember,¡± I said, not bothering to look up as I fixated on how to finish the wheel.


    The two would bother me for hours if I didn¡¯t keep them busy, so I thought of ways to distract them.


    ¡°Alex, you remember where that boar was that gored you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±


    ¡°I want you to hunt it down for me. Think of it like a quest. You get me a boar, and after I cook it, we can go into the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Oh sweet. I was waiting to get payback on that little piggy,¡± Alex smiled, unsheathed his sword, and ran for the woods.


    While Alex was gone, I paused work on the spinning wheel and grabbed a bunch of rope that was previously made by Alex and Cass. Cass watched me as I worked. I tied ropes together to form a long piece of rope and used Cass¡¯s outstretched wingspan to model the length. In the middle of the wingspan-sized rope, I interlaced more rope together to form a pocket. On the ends of the long rope, I tied knots to form handles.


    I presented it to Cass, and he said with wide eyes, ¡°Is this what I think it is?¡±


    ¡°Yep. It¡¯s a sling. Put a rock in the pocket, hold both ends of the rope, and swing it.¡±


    Rope Sling - D


    10% more effective against non-humans


    Cass¡¯s eyes marveled at the weapon, and he picked out a rock from his many pockets to load it. We made our way to a clearing away from the stockpile before a row of trees to use as target practice. His first few shots failed, and I worried he would hurt himself before he got some distance and cracking shots in.


    ¡°This is so awesome,¡± Cass said, snapping the sling forward and missing a tree wide.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal. If you get a class and get to level 10 in that class, I¡¯ll take you down to the dungeon, okay?¡± I said. He nodded furiously and kept slinging away, hoping one sling would get him the class he wanted. I went back to work on the spinning wheel.


    Even with my high-level Crafting skills, the work on the spinning wheel was rough, and I couldn¡¯t finish it before another distraction came. Alex returned sooner than expected, dragging the carcass of a slain boar with its head hacked to pieces. The animal had long tusks, fluffy gray fur, which I thought would be perfect for yarn, and thick bark-like hide on its legs. It resembled a miniature version of a wholly mammoth, I thought. It didn''t seem to put up much resistance against Alex in round two, with his newly acquired skills.


    I started dressing the animal, harvesting what I could from it. Most of the meat was butchered and ruined before I even started to skin it, but I sliced off pieces of shoulder meat and shanks to put into a stew of chopped wild onions and potatoes to slow cook. From the meat came long tendons, sinew, and guts, which I saved for crafting string and other lines. My main prize from the hog was the belly and the skin, which I started to render the fat from. I saved the fat in a lidded clay pot, which would be useful later for making soap and cooking. The leftovers of the fat rendering presented us with chicharrones and fried hog belly sprinkled with salt, which we all ate except Anika. She wasn¡¯t Muslim but said she would only eat pork as a last resort.


    Fried Wild Boar Fat - D


    Boar Padding - 10% resistance against piercing and slashing attacks for 3 hours


    With my tasks done and dinner of boar stew on slow cook, I made my preparations to leave with Alex for the dungeon. I wrapped some cracklings in a leaf and stuffed it in my pocket. My next goal was to find backpacks or bags in the dungeon. Anika and Ethan were working on a compass, a floating piece of magnet in a clay bowl of water.


    ¡°Great idea,¡± I said, staring in the direction the magnet was pointing. The river and hills lay somewhere in the Northwest while the dungeon cave was somewhere to the East.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to make signs next. We¡¯ll start mapping this area, figuring out when passengers arrive, and making this whole process a lot easier,¡± Ethan said, wiping his glasses on his now-stained shirt.


    ¡°I rendered some fat. It¡¯s in a jar in the stockpile. I think we¡¯re going to need to make a livestock pen soon and a warehouse. If we can capture some boar piglets, we can start domesticating them. They¡¯ll be useful for fat and to eat up our garbage,¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful, I can finally make soap with the fat. I¡¯ll go find something aromatic in the forest to give the soap some spice. Do you have any ideas?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°The zest from those citrus fruits we had last night might be good. I think I saw some peppermint near the river as well.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going dungeon diving, right? Try to find some bags or any kind of storage equipment. Bags, backpacks, hell, if you can even lug a chest back here that¡¯d be great,¡± Ethan suggested.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to bring back everything, my dude,¡± Alex said. ¡°This dungeon will save us. We won¡¯t have to work this hard anymore.¡±


    Ethan, Anika, and I all exchanged a blank look.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t get hurt,¡± Anika warned.


    ¡°Make sure Cass doesn¡¯t follow us or get lost,¡± I said, waving goodbye as we marched to the dungeon.


    Leaderboard of Thornhill Dungeons


    Alex Ryder - Floor 1


    Orion Sterling - Floor 1


    Julian Zajac - Floor 1


    Marek Zajac - Floor 1


    Natalia Zajac - Floor 1


    Both of us looked at the dungeon information card before entering. Just as Alex was about to open the door, I held him back and took a quick inventory. I had a total of six knives, two of which were newly crafted. One was a non-throwing copper long knife, my main weapon, looted from my first dungeon run but mostly used for cooking since then. Aside from that, I had some rope, which I thought might be useful, and in my pockets, my leaf bundle of boar cracklings.


    Checking over my cards, I noticed my Pottery skill card had degraded and was now missing from my inventory. It¡¯s been a while since I did any pottery, so it made sense that you couldn¡¯t keep every skill you learned.


    <hr>


    Cook Class - 6


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.Forage - 3


    Highlight Plants


    Tracking - 3


    Track Detective


    Crafting - 2


    Throwing Weapons - 3


    Deadly Shot


    Firewielding - 1


    Path of the Dagger - 1


    Stealth - 1


    <hr>


    ¡°I think we should do a sneak-and-rush approach. It¡¯s the best way to utilize my skills,¡± I said to Alex.


    ¡°What? We don¡¯t need to pussyfoot around some rats,¡± Alex scoffed.


    ¡°It¡¯s the best way we can avoid as much damage as possible. You don¡¯t want the dungeon to close, do you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Alex frowned and agreed.


    ¡°You¡¯ll still get some blows in. I¡¯ll sneak attack them, and you charge in with the finishing blow when they realize where the attacks are coming from,¡± I said.


    The first floor of the dungeon had the same mossy stone walls and maze-like corridors as before, but the layout had completely changed. Rooms had shifted, and paths we took before now led to unexplored areas. A giant rat roamed the halls ahead of us, and Alex and I hid behind stone pillars as it walked past. When the shadow of the rat grew faint, I approached the end of the hall, peeked around the corner to where the rat patrolled, and looked back at Alex to confirm. I nodded, then activated my Deadly Shot skill, throwing one of my knives at the back of the creature¡¯s head and landing a critical strike. It bucked and let out a terrible screech, prompting Alex to charge forward. When the creature turned around, it reared up, and Alex thrust his copper sword into its belly. I hesitated to throw another knife since Alex blocked my view, but he pulled out his sword and slashed it diagonally across the rat¡¯s face, cutting its throat and spraying blood over his new armor, plaid shirt, and the stone wall.


    Alex trudged over, breathing hard. I asked if he was okay, and he gave me a thumbs up, flashing his newly leveled Path of the Sword skill, now at 2.


    The chest that the rat was guarding was now free to loot. When opened, it revealed a basic bronze mace. Feeling it wasteful to leave weapons behind, I took the mace and used it as a walking stick. We would split the coins bringing my total to 5 jester coins.


    After fumbling through corridors, dead ends, and empty rooms, we discovered little loot. No leather bags, no boxes, not even discarded candle holders. In the main hall, where the final maze led, stood a rat that seemed to be the alpha of the one we had slain earlier.


    Alex took the initiative to charge at what we considered the boss of the floor. Not wanting him to have all the credit for the kill, I sidestepped and used my Deadly Shot skill, landing a critical hit on the rat''s chest but not a fatal one. The rat charged forward, mashing its giant incisors against Alex¡¯s sword. The impact drove Alex back, and I snuck behind the rat, stabbing it in the back. It reared again, throwing me against a stone wall. Before it could respond to my backstab, Alex slashed its front right leg off, and another swing of his sword finally killed the giant rat.


    With its death, my Stealth and Path of the Knife skills leveled up to 2, though my Throwing Weapons skill remained the same. The first few levels of skills were easy to get, but higher levels would require tougher opponents. Both of us stood there for a minute to catch our breath. I recovered first and started skinning the giant rat, planning to take the pelt back to camp. A fog came over my head, and I bent over after my work was done.


    Alex looted the final treasure chest and handed me a few gold coins bringing my total to 6 jester coins.


    ¡°What was in it?¡± I asked.


    He showed me his new leather boots. I glanced behind him to see his discarded Air Forces and said, ¡°You should take those back. You never know when you need another pair of shoes. I doubt this world has any places that sell Nikes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving it all behind. All of my old self,¡± Alex said, sheathing his sword. ¡°I was reborn here, Rion.¡±


    ¡°Pretty speech, but it might make a good hand-me-down. Just take them. We have to prove we aren¡¯t here just to level up,¡± I said.


    Dragging the giant rolled-up piece of rat skin, we reached the final stairs of this level. One stair led down into darkness, the other up to light. I checked my food buff duration to see that we still had some time before nightfall. Without asking, Alex ventured down into the darkness, and I followed behind him.


    The next floor of the dungeon had off-white stone walls stained with yellow spots. The hallways were paved with withered stone tiles instead of dirt, and stairways within the dungeon created a multi-level maze that didn''t lead out or complete the floor. Most of the dungeon consisted of long, empty stone hallways leading to grand chambers with cells of black iron bars, though no cell doors were installed. As we entered, the door behind us glowed with light, resembling an exit sign.


    Once again, I advised Alex to proceed cautiously and stealthily. Passing through a stone archway that led to a stairway down, we entered more dungeon hallways filled with cells. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark areas beyond the reach of the light, several blinking from their open cells. A putrid smell of rotten eggs permeated the air, and the floor was damp with an unknown liquid.


    Crouching behind the entrance, we finally spotted our first enemies on the floor as they stepped out of the shadows into the hallway''s light. Two more joined them. These creatures had large, pointy ears resembling green butterfly wings, and their double-lidded eyes were like that of reptiles. They stood about four feet tall, with three-digit legs and feet that ended in velociraptor-like claws


    The three gremlins, or goblin-like creatures, chittered amongst themselves, sensing something awry. As they caught the glint of light from my Deadly Shot skill card, one dodged the knife aimed at its eyes. Cursing, I swiftly threw another knife, striking the gremlin on the left in the thigh. Behind us, more chittering echoed from the room we came from, signaling reinforcements. We were going to pincered on the stairway.


    All three gremlins charged toward the stairwell. Using my mace for its longer reach, I swung and smashed the closest one that lunged with its vicious talons. Meanwhile, Alex was fending off another trio of gremlins behind me. The cramped quarters were challenging for my abilities; swinging wildly with my weaker hand gripping the mace, I used my left hand to fend off a gremlin trying to grab at my feet with a knife.


    Amidst the chaos of flesh tearing and weapons clashing against stone, I dropped the ratskin to gain more flexibility in my movements.


    For the first time, I felt true terror. This wasn¡¯t like fighting the rats; this was desperate. We were outnumbered, cornered, and unable to escape. The dungeon gave you the thrill of sky diving, but now it felt like my chute wouldn''t open. The only way forward was to keep fighting. I heard Alex cry out in pain as one of the gremlins'' talons connected with his chest, slashing through his leather armor and leaving three red lines, the center one deep enough to leave scars. The creature paid for its lunge with a sword through its gut, which Alex drove upwards, ripping it in half. Alex collapsed against the wall, trying to catch his breath and wincing in pain.


    Meanwhile, another two gremlins charged at me. I swung wildly with my mace, batting one away and accidentally striking the stone wall to my right. I kicked out at the other gremlin, which dug its talons into my shins, leaving a mark that should have been deeper if not for my food buff, Boar Padding, protecting me. I hammered a gremlin on the left with the butt of my knife in its chin, then flipped my copper knife point side up to drive it into its neck.


    Feeling dizzy and nauseous, I struggled to catch my breath as the creatures continued their assault. Sensing my vulnerability, one of the gremlins lunged forward, but Alex swiftly intervened, cleaving its head from its body with his sword.


    The last remaining gremlin, seeing its fallen comrades and the two still-standing humans, panicked and dashed away, a throwing knife embedded in its thigh.


    Me and Alex stood back to back, catching our breaths. I took out my wrapped leaf of boar crackling and put it in my mouth. My mouth was dry; I needed to make a waterskin for trips like this.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± I huffed.


    ¡°Yeah, just a little cut on my chest,¡± Alex wheezed.


    ¡°Same, but my leg,¡± I said, standing straight. ¡°We should go back to the stairs and leave. We aren¡¯t ready yet to face the rest.¡±


    ¡°I can¡ª¡± Alex winced in pain as he gripped his chest. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. Let¡¯s go back to the stairs.¡±


    Collecting our coins, I came up to 9 jester coins. We retraced our steps, but Alex still wanted to take a detour. In a closed-door room, there was a lone stone chest. I cuffed Alex to stop him from reaching it.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. You should get this one,¡± Alex said.


    I shook my head and threw a knife at it. It clanged off the chest without doing much. ¡°Now that we¡¯re going further down, we should be careful.¡±


    The chest was normal and not trapped or a mimic. It revealed a pair of leather pants.


    Leather Pant of Slickness - F


    More effective against rain and water.


    I folded my jeans, one leg now slashed and bloodied, and put on the new leather pants. They were a bit loose, but I tightened them to my hips with my leather belt.


    When we came back to the stairs of the second-floor dungeon and went up, instead of being transported to the first floor, we opened the door to reveal the entrance of the dungeon. This mechanic seemed to save people who made it more than two floors from walking all the way back up again.


    We snuck back to camp. I told Alex to hide while I got Ethan to patch us up without Bianca knowing. In my sneaking around camp, I noticed three more people had joined. One was a stewardess I remembered from the plane, an older lady who had offered me drinks. The other two were a mother and her teenage son, both in disbelief and panic as Bianca and Anika oriented them to their new reality.


    I caught Ethan''s eye and signaled him to come over.


    Ethan looked around and snuck over to the bush I was hiding in. ¡°Orion? Why are you¡­¡±


    ¡°Alex and I are a bit scratched up. Can you patch us up, doc?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh man¡­ I think I have to tell¡­¡±


    ¡°Ethan, it¡¯s no big deal. Just minor cuts,¡± I said.


    Ethan sighed and nodded. He fetched a torch and some pots from the stockpile.


    ¡°Just going out to take care of some business, if you know what I mean,¡± Ethan shouted to the group.


    Adjusting his eyeglasses, Ethan brought the torch up to examine Alex¡¯s wounds. ¡°Some of these are healing already. Interesting.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my armor. It can do that,¡± Alex said wincing.


    ¡°The middle cut still needs some stitching. Hold still.¡±


    Ethan opened a small clay pot and retrieved an army ant. He placed the ant¡¯s mandibles on the top of the wound, and it bit into Alex¡¯s flesh.


    ¡°Wait, what are you doing? Ants?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°I''m still waiting for my threads to dry. This is an old technique for suturing wounds. One of my skills makes sutures heal faster and harder to tear, but you still have to take it easy,¡± Ethan said, twisting the ant''s body off until only the head was left on the wound. He lined up the next ant, suturing the wound with five ant heads.


    My leg required three ants to suture up. The process was grotesque but intriguing.


    ¡°Here, both of you eat this. It¡¯s a root that Anika harvested with her Herbalist skill. It has some antibiotic properties but keep in mind, it¡¯s not penicillin. You¡¯ll both probably have to rest for a while,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°Thanks, doc. And thanks for keeping it from Bianca,¡± I said.


    Ethan sighed. ¡°The wounds aren¡¯t so bad, but you should seriously be more cautious. We can¡¯t afford to lose people. Not with the amount of work that has to be done. I won¡¯t tell Bianca now because you¡¯re both adults, but the minute we start keeping secrets is the minute this community loses trust with each other.¡±


    When Ethan left with his pots, Alex spoke up. ¡°I told you we shouldn¡¯t have told him. It¡¯s better if they don¡¯t know about this. I would have healed.¡±


    ¡°No, Ethan¡¯s right. I¡¯m going to take a break from dungeon diving for tomorrow, at least until my leg heals up. You should too,¡± I said.


    Alex looked like he agreed but didn¡¯t give a positive confirmation. In the following days, more people joined Thornhill. Among them were young men and women, eager to avoid manual labor and find their purpose in the dungeon.

 Chapter 17

    Chapter 17


    Ethan - Day 6 of Landing


    Day 7 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 21


    It¡¯s been nearly a week since I¡¯ve been stuck ¡°here¡±. Where ¡°here" is. I¡¯ve reached the point where I have accepted this is probably where I will spend the rest of my life and won¡¯t wake up from whatever ¡°this¡± happens to be.


    My day-to-day, which had once started with lectures, now began with me walking a good distance to relieve myself and wash by the river. Lab sessions with cadavers and tests were replaced with chores like cleaning and drying sinew, tanning hides, and making wood ash and lye. My clinical rotations now involved patching up cuts from dungeon divers rather than dealing with the usual complications from a poor diet and lifestyle. Instead of studying biochemistry or physiology late into the night, I was studying the cards I had and the night sky.


    Yesterday we had three newcomers as usual. Ruth and her son Bryden seemed like good folk overall. Ruth was the typical overbearing mother to her sixteen-year-old son, trying to keep him in camp and prevent him from wandering too far. She reminded me of Orion in that aspect, at least concerning Cass. The other newcomer was Gladys, our first flight attendant---an older lady with a motherly expression. Despite her calm demeanor, she was still shaken to the core by what had happened to her and her, well our, current situation. Gladys constantly wanted to know what was going on, how long we would be here, and where everyone else was.


    Today, our newcomer was Cade Ellington, a young African American man who stood nearly six feet eight inches tall. He was in the police academy, working towards joining the force. Upon seeing the young man, Alex would quickly try to find in him a new dungeon party member. Sasha would join later, and by the time Aaliyah, another stewardess, arrived, Bianca had devised an idea to start a welcoming crew for new passengers, helping them adjust to their new situation. We tried to ease the newcomers in, but there was an expectation for them to work and pitch in around camp. We assigned simple tasks like fetching water, foraging for plants and materials for rope, and making salt. It was difficult to ask people who had been sitting on an airplane just yesterday to now live in the wilderness and start working in these conditions. We didn¡¯t want to pressure them too much.


    Among the headaches around the camp had been Alex trying to recruit every new ablebody to go through the dungeon with him, including myself. One of my great fears was rats so I had to pass on that when I heard about the giant ones on the first level.


    Orion had been busy hunting muskrats and boars and made a small rendering area that stank up the camp out so we got him to move. Orion was trying to get as much lard and leather out of everything he hunted as possible. Anika and I had been helping to process the hides and sinew of the carcasses into usable material.


    With prospects like Cade and even Bryden coming forward to volunteer themselves to join the dungeon expeditions, Bianca had serious issues with Alex taking all the able-bodied workers to the dungeon. Those issues would calm themselves as their first venture in the dungeon netted a copper hammer and copper axe which the party graciously donated to the camp for Slate to use. The axe was redundant as Slate had a sawmill ability, but it was useful for other people around the camp.


    Slate and Marek were busy finishing up the second shelter. The Golem was gaining more experience every day. Slate was a walking crane and construction team on his own at this point. Marek who oversaw the operation was constantly berating the Golem who didn¡¯t respond at all to the insults of ¡°stupid facking rock¡± or ¡°you idiota boulder¡±. Bianca didn¡¯t appreciate Marek making fun of her golem which amused Marek and made the insults even worse.


    Of course, between all this, I had my ¡°duties¡± as a ¡°doctor¡± to attend to.


    Marek had a nicotine addiction he was fighting. I couldn¡¯t exactly prescribe him Chantix since our island lacked a pharmacy. What we did have, however, was a Herbalist. Between making charcoal and lime, Anika was cataloging and drying various plants near the camp that had good medicinal properties. A mortar was always filled with some mysterious green or red concoction that she was experimenting with. At Anika¡¯s suggestion, Bianca, our camp¡¯s best potter, would create a teapot to brew some tea for Marek. Dried herbs and plants were spread all over Bianca''s drying rack near Anika''s station. When the earthenware teapot was fired, she blended firecracker berries¡ªvibrant orange in the middle with red star-like points extending out from the center, growing in abundance around camp¡ªwith wort in her mortar and pestle and brewed them for Marek.


    ¡°It taste like dirt,¡± Marek said though still going in for more sips, his hard Slavic face scrunched.


    ¡°The wort will help with your mood swings and nicotine cravings and the firecracker berries will give you an energy boost,¡± Anika explained twirling a flower in her hands. ¡°My skill lets me extract more of the compounds I want out of it. Usually, this berry is very mild but I increased the caffeine intake in it. Just try not to drink it four hours before bed.¡±


    Marek nodded and took the cup with him, sipping and wincing with each sip.


    ¡°Was any of that real or was that just a placebo?¡± I asked Anika with a smile.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll keep that to myself.¡± Anika winked and then handed some powder to me wrapped in a leaf. ¡°This is for Ruth. I increased the berberine in it.¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t take credit for Anika¡¯s handiwork but I had a Prescribe skill that would allow medicine I directly gave to my patients increased healing effects.


    ¡°Hopefully this works. Thank god it¡¯s not type one.¡± I nodded at her appreciatively.


    On my way to see Ruth, a young Cass came over with a closed-lidded clay jar, ¡°Here¡¯s a refill doctor!¡±


    I checked the contents of the clay jar to see inside dozens of army ants surrounding a berry on top of freshly dug dirt.


    ¡°Cass you know you should be with Roza and the rest of her children. Orion will kill us if you get lost.¡± I patted the young boy on his head, ruffling his blond hair.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a little kid. I know this area better than he does,¡± Cass crossed his arms looking annoyed.


    ¡°Thank you for the delivery though,¡± I said warmly. Despite how annoyed Orion was at his brother, Cass was extremely resourceful and bright for his age. ¡°If you have time can you find me maggots by any chance?¡±


    ¡°Maggots? What for?¡±


    ¡°They eat necrotic tissue,¡± I said and was surprised when Cass didn¡¯t grimace or say something like ¡°gross¡± but just nodded as if he understood.


    ¡°That reminds me. Mrs. Roza said she wanted to talk to you about doctor stuff but has her hands full with the children,¡± Cass explained pointing in the direction where he thought Roza was which I suspected was the beach shelter.


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


    ¡°I¡¯ll do that after I talk to Ruth, anything else?¡± I asked.


    ¡°If you have time can you teach me math?¡± Cass asked.


    ¡°Wait where did this come from all of a sudden?¡± I wondered, the question seemed straight out of left field.


    ¡°I would ask Ani but she¡¯s already teaching me about chemistry. We¡¯re learning about chemical bonds but she said it¡¯s hard to explain without paper.¡± Cass said excitedly.


    ¡°I can brush off a few things but I¡¯m in medical school. I don¡¯t know if I can teach you anything THAT advanced. I think I had forgotten most of my advanced calculus,¡± I explained to him.


    ¡°Can you teach me about the stuff you learn there then?¡± Cass asked.


    ¡°What¡¯s with all this sudden desire for academics? I¡¯d figure not going to school is one of the main perks of being here for you kids,¡± I asked.


    ¡°You and Anika are both really smart. If I learn how to be smart like you, hunt like Rye, fight like Alex, and build like Marek, I¡¯ll be the most powerful person on the whole planet!¡± Cass exclaimed throwing his arms up into the sky.


    I laughed and ruffled his hair again, ¡°You know what? I¡¯ll set aside an hour to teach you what I can. When I find you a better mathematician then you can graduate from me.¡±


    Cass nodded and then brought out his sling he carried like a sash, placed a rock in it, and scampered away.


    The kid had ambition that¡¯s for sure.


    Ruth was boiling salt near the first shelter and I came over to deliver her ¡°meds¡±. Ruth was an overweight lady in her 40s suffering from either prediabetic conditions or type two diabetes. Sweat was dripping down her dyed neon-red hair and her hands were shaking as she sipped on some water from a red clay cup. I handed her the package of the herbs Anika foraged.


    ¡°This will help with your blood sugar, Ms. Schmidt-Campbell.¡± I smiled warmly and sat next to her watching the fire boil the earthenware of saltwater. ¡°With this and the new forced restrictive diet out here, we can control your symptoms.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a peach, Ethan. A peach. Why can¡¯t the other kids be like you instead of running around playing swords and sandals?¡± Ruth said shaking her head in disappointment. She sprinkled the herbs in her water, sipped it, and winced. A mouthful of grass is what it probably tasted like.


    ¡°You know your son is at an age where whenever you tell him to do something he¡¯ll naturally want to do the opposite,¡± I said.


    ¡°What can I do Ethan? I can¡¯t take away his video games, I can¡¯t take away his phone. I can¡¯t do anything out here except this,¡± Ruth said, her grip tightening on her cup. ¡°I¡¯m so sick of this place and my boy is throwing his life away. You can talk to Bianca. Tell her to close the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Bianca wants to but there is pressure from the others. Alex and Orion are both strong warriors and they could bring back useful stuff,¡± I said. My true opinion on it was mixed. It had both pros and cons. I could only see the cons in the form of wounds. I knew of video games and anime of course and whenever there was something like a dungeon and magic cards, it would mean young men and women would go off to find adventure.


    ¡°Sweetheart, they don¡¯t bring back anything but wounds. I see you tending to them last night. I know what¡¯s going on,¡± Ruth wiped at her eyes. ¡°I want to go home, Ethan. I want my son to go home, he should be in school. I told him to be a doctor, Ethan. Like you.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t a doctor back home... I was just in med school.¡±


    ¡°At least you got there,¡± Ruth gritted her teeth and sniffled, ¡°My poor boy isn¡¯t going to graduate high school if we don¡¯t get back.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry Ms. Schmidt-Campbell... it¡¯s a really difficult situation for all of us.¡± I said putting my hand on her shoulder. Is this it? My go-to patient move? ¡°I have to go see Ms. Zajac now. Tell me if you experience any nausea or abdominal pain okay, Ms. Schmidt-Campbell?¡±


    Ruth just kept shaking her head in frustration and confusion. Unsure of what to do, where to go, and who to speak with.


    You and me both.


    It was difficult. You study and study, but it can''t prepare you for real patients. It was easy to get caught up in the magical system we all had. When they came to me with their medical problems, I couldn¡¯t wave a magical wand and just heal them---their bodies or their hearts.


    I tried to look at the positives. The strength of the ¡°medicine¡± I gave Ruth will be increased because of the skill cards I had, while the negative side effects will decrease. The sutures I performed on the dungeon divers will heal faster than can be explained medically. It would be considered a medical miracle on Earth, the things I did. Like everyone else, I had to level up too so I could be that healing magician they expected out of me.


    Hopefully, my next patient doesn''t have a horrible condition. Roza was a full-figured woman but I didn''t think she had a weight issue like Ruth.


    Please don''t let it be something bad.


    Roza, Marek¡¯s wife was outside the first shelter on the cleared green flats, littered with tree stumps, placing flax bundles against the sun to dry. Her children were playing nearby in viewing distance making sand forts and catching crabs on the beach ahead. When Roza spotted me coming, she halted her work and greeted me.


    ¡°You wanted to see me, Ms. Zajac?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Please call me Roza, Ethan.¡± Roza smiled warmly. Her face bent into a frown after her greeting. She looked around suspiciously before sighing. ¡°I have been getting morning sickness lately... I think I may be pregnant.¡±


    ¡°Any other symptoms Ms... I mean Roza?¡± I asked. I was nervous on the inside. Not a pregnancy. Not right now. We needed Roza''s seamstress abilities.


    ¡°I also missed my period,¡± Roza said, her face downcast.


    ¡°Hmm... I see... I¡¯ll take a look,¡± I said.


    When I pulled out my Diagnose skill card, Roza was startled for a bit but calmed down as I threw the card at her. The card stayed in place and did a scan over her body, a quick flash of blue from heel to head. At level 3 it gave me a quick reading of her blood test. I didn¡¯t have medical equipment or access to lab results here, but I did have this magic spell.


    What I would give for this back on Earth.


    A new information card appeared. It wouldn¡¯t tell me exactly what was wrong with her, but just present to me her blood panel and vitals like a lab result.


    ¡°Your intuition is correct. Your hCG levels and progesterone levels are higher than normal. Congratulations Roza.¡± I said smiling slightly though worry for my readiness to deal with a pregnancy was shrouding the back of my mind.


    ¡°But... I can not have a baby here...¡± Roza cried wiping away her tears.


    ¡°Hmm... I¡¯m sure we can figure out other options if you wish not to have the baby,¡± I suggested.


    ¡°No... no. Marek and I are Catholic. We can not... but it will be dangerous... No? Without hospital?¡± Roza asked.


    ¡°Babies have been born long before ultrasound and modern hospitals, Roza. I am not an expert in prenatal care but Anika and I will figure out how to help you manage the pain through the delivery. I can check on you every week to see how you are doing.¡±


    ¡°But what kind of life... this baby can have,¡± Roza put her hands into her face sobbing. ¡°My children. They don¡¯t deserve this.¡±


    I came over to pat Roza¡¯s shoulder, gently caressing it, and said, ¡°Roza, in nine eight months who knows what this place will become? Your husband and Bianca are doing what they can to build a place where we can all thrive. Your child will be born not wanting any luxury that Earth has to offer because your child will be the first one of us born here.¡±


    More sobbing continued but she nodded, accepting the answer.


    ¡°Thank you, Doctor,¡± Roza cried as she wrapped me in a hug which startled me. I reached behind her and patted her on the back gently in response. I didn¡¯t want to ruin the moment by correcting her that I was not a real doctor. Not yet.


    I¡¯ll deliver your child into this world healthy and strong, Roza. Then you can call me a doctor.

 Chapter 18

    Chapter 20


    James - Day 1 of Landing


    Day 9 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 27


    If heaven existed, this is what I would imagine it to be like. Take it all in, James.


    Pristine beaches with no trash or empty bottles littering the picture-perfect sands. Clear blue oceans without a single boat or jet ski noisily buzzing by. No tourists crowding the beaches with their stupid selfie cams and Hawaiian shirts. What¡¯s more, two lovely women before me, perhaps to service my every whim and desire.


    My two attendants at the gates of paradise greeted me with welcoming smiles as if to say, ''Welcome to Paradise, Master". One of my lovely angels was wearing a stewardess outfit, and the other was an auburn-haired twenty-year-old with tender doe eyes, a real girl-next-door type. Lovely, just lovely.


    Heaven certainly got my kinks down to a tee. Thank you, Gods. All of them.


    Upon closer inspection... the ginger did look a bit plain, but I can¡¯t complain now, can I? With makeup, some lipstick, and eyeliner, she would be gorgeous. Hmm... deary me... It looked as though the pearly gates skimped on her clothing budget; her stained shirt and pants made it seem like she had been stranded on a deserted island for weeks.


    Upon even further inspection of the flight attendant, a beautiful young black woman, it looked like mascara was running down her face as if she¡¯d been crying all night yesterday.


    Alas, maybe it¡¯s not heaven after all; maybe it¡¯s a sort of limbo, I suppose. Still, a man could do worse than two pretty girls alone on the beach.


    ¡°Good afternoon. It is noon, right? Right? Okay.¡± The flight attendant whispered to the ginger for reassurance, ¡°My name is Aaliyah Tarwater, I was one of the flight attendants on your flight from Miami to New York. You must have a lot of questions right now and we are here to¡­ guide you through this ordeal you are going through.¡±


    I brushed the sand off my suit as I stood upright. The fine ladies gave me some room as I stretched and took a look around my new paradise.


    ¡°We first must ask you a few questions. What seat were you on the plane and what is your name?¡± The attendant asked, to which the young auburn-haired woman beside her nodded and supported her with, ¡°Good job, Aaliyah.¡±


    ¡°Name. My name is James Taylor, milady,¡± I said proudly.


    ¡°Like the singer?¡± The young red-haired one asked.


    ¡°Please, do not mention him to me. I get enough of that at work,¡± I lamented with an exasperated sigh. ¡°As far as my seat goes, I was somewhere near the front¡­ I can¡¯t seem to recall.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ so you were in business class,¡± Aaliyah remarked, and the two had a worried expression on their faces, both looking at each other conspiratorially as if reading each other¡¯s minds.


    ¡°I can assure you I am no mogul or businessman. The firm always gets me business class tickets on my way to these damned conferences,¡± I said, laughing merrily to put these women at ease. It¡¯s clear they had some misguided views or biases against the rich folk here.


    ¡°Do you have any skills or hobbies? What did you do before¡­ I mean, what is your profession? My name is Bianca, by the way. I am¡­ well... I¡¯m one of the people on the welcoming committee.¡±


    ¡°Skills? Why, I am a master of tongues. I am fluent in French, Italian, and German, and I dabble in Japanese and Mandarin. My profession is a legal translator. My hobbies? Well¡­ you can say I like to partake in some wine and fine dining on occasion.¡±


    I wanted to leave a good impression, that I was a worldly man who enjoyed the finer things in life to these fair ladies.


    Again... that damn look between the ladies as if they caught a boot on the end of their fishing line.


    I, James Taylor, am no boot.


    ¡°James, do you like gardening or collecting rocks or carpentry? Anything like that?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°Collecting rocks? Are you taking the piss? What kind of silly questions are these?¡±


    ¡°James. I don¡¯t want you to panic but it¡¯s been nine days since the plane incident. The survivors of the flight have been transported to another world. I know it¡¯s a lot to take in but we need you to just trust us,¡± Bianca explained.


    ¡°Wait, what¡­ what are you on about?¡± I scoffed.


    These people were crazy. Have I joined a bloody cult?


    ¡°I¡¯m going to do something and I don¡¯t want you to panic. It¡¯s just proof that we aren¡¯t on Earth anymore,¡± Bianca said.


    The next thing I saw was a blue card appearing out of nowhere in the auburn girl''s hand. It was a blue light in the form of a playing card with the word ''Founder'' on it. A cheap magic trick, no doubt, but when she presented the card to me, it disappeared as I tried to hold it. A hologram?


    ¡°It¡¯s not a magic trick. It¡¯s not lights. It¡¯s not some holographic ploy. It¡¯s part of the laws of this¡­ universal or world. We are stuck here in the wilderness to fend for ourselves. It¡¯s a lot to take in, I know, but it¡¯s information you need to have to get adjusted here. We need everyone to pitch in so we don¡¯t starve or die,¡± Bianca said. ¡°If you can follow me, I¡¯ll begin the tour and we can assign you something to do.¡±


    The flight attendant, Aaliyah, took my arm and I gladly followed these two ladies, but I had so many questions.


    ¡°Why is that guy carrying a sword?¡± I asked, staring at a fellow in leather armor who looked like he was cosplaying at some Warcraft convention.


    ¡°That¡¯s Alex, just ignore him for now. Now, as you can see, we have these signs so people don¡¯t get lost. Pretty neat, huh? Right now, we are working on more clay lanterns to light the way. We just need to get more fuel. Over there is our compass, sundial, and hourglass. If you follow this sign it will take you to the first shelter we built.¡±


    ¡°So, let¡¯s say I believe you, how many people are here exactly?¡± I asked expectantly, looking at both my lovely companions.


    ¡°We currently have¡­ well, you are our last arrival for the day, so 27. Ethan and Anika worked out that the last person always teleports here approximately six hours past dawn, barring stuff like being related or whatever. Anyway, here is our main shelter. You can sleep here, of course, but right now it¡¯s full, so we¡¯ll assign you to shelter number three. We built number three just yesterday; it¡¯s been really busy.¡± Bianca gestured for me to keep moving while Aaliyah gently prodded me forward. I was just too busy taking it all in.


    What a dump. I¡¯m going to have to live in these¡­ huts?


    ¡°That there is our main stockpile. You can find wood, rope, pots, plates, cups, tools, and other stuff you need there. We¡¯re planning to build a warehouse once we solve the housing crisis,¡± Bianca said and pointed to another area. ¡°That¡¯s one of our outhouses. There are clay pots in there holding urine if you want to donate your pee, otherwise, go in the hole.¡±


    A trail was being formed as we ventured further uphill into the forest. There were people carrying baskets of fruits and the like walking past me, making the trail even clearer in the wild path with their shoes beating the ground.


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    ¡°Past this stockpile are our kilns. We make charcoal, pots, and ash here. I¡¯m like a level 4 potter right now, so this is more my expertise.¡±


    ¡°Level 4 potter? What does that mean? I¡¯m sorry, this is all a bit too fast for me,¡± I said.


    Bianca showed that amazing magic trick she did again and revealed a blue card that read ¡°Pottery¡± with a 4 on top. She smiled proudly and said, ¡°It¡¯s a skill that helps everything you do a lot easier. We want people to get a class A-S-A-P so their jobs are much easier. Listen. If you get a class, you¡¯ll meet a stranger in a dark place who will give you cards. Just don¡¯t panic, listen to him okay, and pick a card.¡±


    These people are wackos. I have truly joined a cult.


    We climbed a hill toward a recently deforested area. A young, dour man was there, skinning what looked like beavers on a wooden plank atop a huge tree trunk with an ivory-gripped knife. Beside him, a flight attendant in her forties was scaling a fish on a plank near a bowl of leafy greens. The young man sat by a large campfire with an earthenware pot over it. Picnic tables made of rough wooden planks were lined neatly before the campfire, below a canopy of wood. The whole place looked like a primitive Japanese open-air mess hall.


    ¡°This is our eating area. We didn¡¯t have time to build an entire mess hall, but this will do for now. All our resources are going into farming or building another shelter. This handsome young gentleman here is Orion, a cook. Say hi, Rye. This is James, he came in today.¡±


    The young man brushed aside his dark brown hair to get a better look at me. His cold, sunken green eyes took my measure, found me lacking, and then went back to work. His precision with the knife made him look like a veteran butcher with twenty years under his belt, filleting the beaver creature right down to the bone, not leaving a single piece of meat on it.


    ¡°Great¡­ another mouth to feed,¡± Orion said bitterly and brushed off some grisly-looking meat into the pot, not bothering to look up.


    "Charmed," I said to the young man, who shot me a glare that clearly said, "Fuck off, wanker."


    Bianca just smiled as if she had to deal with this asshole all day and this was just a back-and-forth, one of his quirky foibles. We continued to walk up the path towards a river.


    ¡°What¡¯s his problem?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Orion is just¡­ well, he has a lot on his plate, and we have some issues with some of the new folks¡­ he¡¯s usually a really really nice guy... no really! It¡¯s nothing you did wrong, don¡¯t worry,¡± Bianca reassured.


    ¡°Are you from England?¡± Aaliyah asked, curious about my accent.


    ¡°I am Welsh, milady. I moved here years ago.¡± I stopped and realized I wasn¡¯t exactly in America anymore. ¡°Umm¡­ not here, I suppose, but America.¡±


    Bianca led us to a recently cleared forest path beside a river. More wood structures had been erected recently, and two women were hunched over, planting cut-up potatoes in the tilled soil, with a rock golem working the field using a primitive-looking tool.


    ¡°Umm¡­ what exactly is that thing over there?¡± I asked, pointing at the living statue. My jaw was practically on the ground.


    ¡°That¡¯s Slate, our golem. Just¡­ again, it¡¯s weird. He won¡¯t hurt you, let him do his work. He¡¯s gotten really, really good at building. We couldn¡¯t have done all this without him.¡± Bianca explained, smiling as if everything she said wasn¡¯t complete insanity. ¡°Anyways... over there is your shelter. You will have to share with some new arrivals, but this is a new shelter. We finished it this morning. Marek, our main builder, said it¡¯s a lot better built than the older ones, so lucky you, huh?¡±


    Bianca pointed me to a wooden log house that reminded me of the time I vacationed in rural Japan and visited some temples.


    I suppose they don¡¯t have any working plumbing in it.


    ¡°Lucky me¡­¡± I said, looking at the log cabin that looked like it belonged to a poor peasant in Imperial Asia.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to share with other people, of course. We think it can fit up to ten, maybe twelve people temporarily. Just sleep anywhere.¡±


    ¡°Anywhere?¡± I asked, not wanting to know what that meant.


    ¡°Well¡­ we don¡¯t really have beds or rooms exactly¡­ just sleep on the floor anywhere. Again, this is a work in progress. Oh, did I show you the outhouse over there? It¡¯s great because you have the river here, and you can wash up after.¡± Bianca¡¯s voice radiated false joy and glee. She sounded like a real estate agent trying to push a lousy house onto a client.


    How can she still smile like that? We''re in the middle of nowhere, living in huts, sleeping on the floor, eating giant rodents served by miscreants, and using outhouses with pee collectors, for chrissakes.


    ¡°Here we are. Right now, we are setting up some farms. Nothing too big, but it¡¯d be great if we could get some Farmer classes. This is Samar; she¡¯ll be in charge of you. Just do what she asks. That over there is Sasha. She¡¯s like you, new to farming.¡±


    A Middle Eastern woman in her thirties was planting oddly shaped potatoes cut into quarters in foul-smelling dirt, while another woman¡ªher assistant, presumably¡ªenriched the soil with what looked and smelled like fish guts.


    ¡°Samar, where is Joseph? I thought he was supposed to help out?¡± Bianca asked with concern.


    ¡°He says he has heatstroke. Went to lie down,¡± Samar said apologetically.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Bianca let out a frustrated sigh and then forced herself to smile when she focused on me. ¡°If you have any questions, I¡¯ll be back at the stockpile. Dinner is around sunset, so be there for a wonderful meal.¡±


    ¡°Bianca¡­ I don¡¯t know the first thing about farming. Do you have any other jobs?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Can you help build?¡±


    ¡°You know¡­ I¡¯m not too good with heavy lifting. My back, you see¡­¡± I said.


    ¡°Can you fish or hunt?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°Animals scare me¡­ I prefer my meat sealed in plastic, if you catch my drift.¡± I chuckled at the double entendre. "That''s what she said" going off in my mind.


    ¡°What can you do then?¡±


    ¡°I can write. Give me a pen¡­ or should I say a quill and ink, and I will do an inventory for this colony, my fair lady. I will write you the finest code of conduct for this community. Any administrative work you have, I will gladly volunteer myself to. Knowledge is power, after all.¡±


    Bianca thought about it and said, ¡°You know what? That¡¯s not a bad idea. I¡¯ll run it by the group and see how they feel. But first, we really need these farms up. If you can just help out Samar for a while until we find a place for you, please.¡±


    ¡°I will give it the ol¡¯ college try, I suppose.¡± That damn smile of hers and her low expectations of me left me wanting to prove her wrong. Like a puppy an owner wanted to abandon, Bianca left me to my devices. She guided Aaliyah away as if the young stewardess was shadowing her at work.


    Just half an hour ago, I thought I went to heaven, but now I believe I¡¯m in hell. I stared at the dirt, wondering what to do.


    Where could I even run to? It¡¯s not like I can call someone to pick me up from wherever we are. Everyone here looked like they lost their phones and laptops too.


    ¡°You should feel lucky; the robot did most of the plowing,¡± Samar said.


    ¡°Robot. My heavens, I won¡¯t even bother asking.¡± I sighed. ¡°Yes. Lucky indeed¡­ I thank my lucky stars every minute I¡¯m stuck here. You don¡¯t believe all that hogwash about us being stuck in another world, do you?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t at first until I saw the stars at night. The moon is different,¡± Samar said.


    ¡°This is fucking bullshit,¡± Sasha cried, slamming the pot of fish guts to the ground, breaking it into several pieces. ¡°What? I tell them once I picked some berries with my grandmother one time, and I get stuck doing this shit?¡±


    ¡°We have to work. If we don¡¯t work, we don¡¯t eat,¡± Samar said, though it didn¡¯t sound like she cared whether or not Sasha went back to work.


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± I asked.


    Samar nodded grimly, planting more potato quarters. She glanced over at the broken pot. ¡°Orion¡¯s gonna be pissed you did that.¡±


    ¡°Fuck Orion and fuck Queen B. Fuck that council too,¡± Sasha said, dusting her hands. ¡°I don¡¯t get why we are working this hard when we can just let Herman do all the fishing. Hell, get everyone fishing.¡±


    ¡°Council?¡± I could vaguely guess it had Bianca and Orion on it, that serious-looking youth.


    ¡°Bianca, that girl you were just with, and Orion, the cook. Also the two doctors or whatever. Herman, too,¡± Sasha said. ¡°They decide everything. They give themselves cushy jobs and leave us newbies with this crap. I¡¯m sick of working like this.¡±


    Sasha got up to use the outhouse. Afterward, she went to the river to wash up. We never saw her again. She stayed in the shelter for the entire day.


    Smarter than the rest of us.


    ¡°I say she¡¯s doing the smart thing. Why should we plant all this for them? What¡¯s in it for us?¡± I sighed and looked around at the mess I was in. This wasn¡¯t a farm; this was just dirt.


    ¡°You guys do what you want, but I have my daughter here with me to take care of,¡± Samar said.


    ¡°You do realize that by the time those things sprout, we¡¯ll all have starved long ago or died of dysentery, right? That, or rip each other apart like Lord of the Flies,¡± I muttered.


    Samar then revealed to me her class card, Farmer. ¡°I can make it go a bit faster, yes. Thanks to this.¡±


    ¡°How do you all do that? Be honest.¡± I stared incredulously at her card, the second time I had witnessed the trick.


    ¡°It¡¯s like they say when you get here. You meet the dealer, he gives you the power and the class,¡± Samar said.


    Feeling guilty about watching the poor woman work the fields by herself, I took off my jacket, rolled up my sleeves, and loosened my tie. ¡°What can I do to help?¡±


    ¡°There is a clay watering pot over there. Help me water these,¡± Samar pointed to the thing, which was just an open clay pot with a spout on its lip.


    ¡°What are we planting?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Potatoes. They can grow in tough conditions. We also have to plant wheat and flax as well.¡±


    ¡°You seem to know what you are on about¡­ were you a farmer?¡± I asked, watering where she pointed.


    ¡°Some. I lived on a farm in Syria before I had to move to America. Don¡¯t tell the others about my ability and class, if you please,¡± Samar said nonchalantly.


    ¡°Why? Why keep it a secret? It would make you a more important person. Bianca has that magic thing, and she¡¯s a leader.¡± Samar kept planting seeds diligently and then rubbed sweat off the back of her forehead with her arm.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a farmer all my life. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I don¡¯t mind it now, and there are worse jobs around here, but¡­ maybe I want to do something else later. I want that freedom to choose,¡± Samar answered. ¡°These cards¡­ they confine you to a role. They make you a prisoner.¡±


    <hr>

 Chapter 19

    Chapter 19


    Bianca - Day 10 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 30


    The meal served at our communal dinner was a combination of two options. One option, for those who couldn¡¯t eat pork, was red snappers caught by Herman and his new fishing assistant, Clark, who had just arrived. The dish consisted of redfish steamed in a clay pot, a side of roasted wild greens, and a relish of berries. The alternative was wild boar hunted by Orion. The cook prepared the boar by roasting it whole on a spit and serving it with a stewed fruit sauce and stone-baked potatoes.


    We washed it all down with filtered water, courtesy of Anika¡¯s new filtration system, which uses charcoal and sediment. Anika, Ethan, and Orion were already working on fermenting berries and fruit into alcohol, which they said would take about a week to ferment.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Alex and his group of young adventurers trying to hide the scars they¡¯d received from the dungeon. Despite my warnings, they kept pushing themselves further. Orion had ventured with them a few times but had become torn between his duties as a hunter and cook and dungeon diving. Alex had formed a new group with Sasha, who had left farming, a young police cadet named Cade, and one of the water boiler¡¯s sons named Bryden.


    Tensions were mounting in our small community. To clear the air, we decided to have a town meeting after dinner to address the issues most of the new arrivals had. I couldn¡¯t bear to do the usual after-dinner motto. It just didn¡¯t feel right.


    As usual, Tiffany, a woman with bleach-blond platinum hair now showing grey roots, spoke up first. Orion had taken to calling her Karen, which I had scolded him for.


    ¡°We are tired of working our asses off for no reason. Why am I gathering seashells? We should be looking for a way to get home!¡± Tiffany barked, looking at the rest of the villagers at the town meeting for support.


    A few nods and statements of general agreement came from the group, mostly from the new arrivals. Orion had been calling them the classless or newbies, which I also scolded him for.


    ¡°Seashells can be used to make lime, and they can also fertilize the crops,¡± Anika explained in a calm voice.


    ¡°Just get that rock golem to do it,¡± Tiffany said to more signs of approval.


    ¡°Slate can¡¯t be everywhere at once. He can¡¯t do all the work for us,¡± I explained trying my best not to sound upset but understanding. ¡°We all need to pitch in to build this place up. You all want more shelters, right? So you don¡¯t have to sleep right next to each other? If you¡¯re willing to help build shelters, we can get Slate to do other things.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Who died and made you boss? I thought we lived in America, the land of democracy. I don¡¯t remember voting for you,¡± Larry, a corporate executive in a stained suit, spoke up. Orion had taken to calling him rich bozo, which I also scolded him for.


    ¡°Show Bianca some respect,¡± Herman said with authority. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for her and her golem, you¡¯d be sleeping out in the cold.¡±


    ¡°Listen, buddy, I didn¡¯t choose to be here, alright? All of us just want to get home to our real lives,¡± Larry cried, anger and frustration plain on his throbbing bald pate.


    ¡°There is no going home,¡± Orion sighed. ¡°When will you people learn that? The sooner you get to work, the more comfortable your life will be. You want better food? Work. You want someone to fix your clothes? Work. You want a better place to sleep at night? Work. If you can¡¯t work, you might as well just kill yourselves now. There is no going back.¡±


    I glared at Orion. There were ways of saying things, but that wasn¡¯t one of them. He brushed me off when he met my glance.


    ¡°Then how come some of our strongest people are going to this... dungeon thing?¡± A woman named Ruth pointed at the four adventurers who had kept silent, now looking embarrassed. ¡°They tell us they will bring back stuff, but all they bring back are these useless weapons and armor they keep to themselves.¡±


    ¡°H-hey. That hammer and axe we found were useful. Slate uses them all the time,¡± Alex defended himself.


    ¡°My boy keeps getting himself into danger instead of helping us here,¡± Ruth said, pointing at her son, who had his head down trying to hide himself. ¡°I want you to close that damn dungeon and order those kids to stop going there.¡±


    ¡°Mom, please. We need to level. Once we level, we¡¯ll be stronger and can get better loot,¡± Bryden said sheepishly.


    ¡°Loot, loot, loot. That''s all I hear. This isn¡¯t a video game! You should be studying or helping out, young man,¡± Ruth said, glaring at the youth.


    Arguments broke out as the young adventurers started shouting ¡°Studying?!¡± over Ruth and Tiffany¡¯s scolding heckles, sounding like mothers lecturing their children loudly at a grocery store while others watched awkwardly from a distance.


    ¡°Bianca, we understand, but most of us aren¡¯t used to this kind of work,¡± Gladys, a flight attendant and one of Orion¡¯s helpers said in a patient tone. She was another cook who didn¡¯t have her class card. ¡°We need a break or some limits. Some of us aren¡¯t young.¡±


    A chorus of agreement went through the group, and I spoke up, ¡°I¡¯ll see about getting you a break. I think we can rotate breaks so that a few of us can be working while others get a rest, okay?¡±


    Orion was shaking his head profusely, gritted teeth on his tired face and his muscles tightened on his crossed arms every time one of the new people spoke. I tried to ignore his intense glare of disapproval.


    ¡°I know things are tough. I¡¯ve been there. We aren¡¯t asking you to build us Paris overnight, but if we all try our best and work together, we can make this place more bearable. I know it sucks, but together we can pull through this.¡± My hands clenched together as I pleaded with the crowd.


    The newcomers looked doubtful but eventually showed signs of hearing me and went their own ways, each taking a torch or lantern and going to their various shelters.


    When they left, Orion, Ethan, Herman, Anika, and I gathered for our own meeting. It was an unofficial council, as the others called it. I hated that name, along with Queen B, which I overheard someone say. We didn¡¯t want to be the ones to decide what to do, but it had kind of fallen to us to guide the group as we were the veterans in this place and the ones with classes.


    ¡°Any new classes pop up?¡± I asked, and they shook their heads in disappointment, except for Orion.


    ¡°One of the dungeon people got a class,¡± Orion said. ¡°Guard class. I forgot his name... You know, that huge black guy who is in the group. His skill is Hometown Advantage. He is stronger and faster whenever in located in his city. Whatever that means.¡±


    ¡°A fighter class,¡± I sighed. ¡°We need a farmer, a blacksmith, or a carpenter. Why aren¡¯t more classes appearing?¡±


    ¡°People might be hiding their classes. They don¡¯t want to get pigeonholed into doing something over and over,¡± Ethan said, and we all watched him in concern. ¡°Oh, not me. I¡¯m fine with being a doctor. Err... over here, at least.¡±


    ¡°I think I know of another one, but since they won¡¯t reveal it themselves and are working hard, I suppose they have their reasons,¡± Orion looked as though he hadn¡¯t slept for days, with dark bags under his eyes. Between his responsibilities with Cass, his job around the camp, and his ambition of going further in the dungeon, he was stretched thin.


    ¡°We have to do something about morale. People are straight up just not working. We can¡¯t keep up with the demand for soap, and our supply of salt and string is running low. Pots and tools keep on disappearing. Our freshwater pots are nearly always empty. If Slate weren¡¯t here, we¡¯d be lost,¡± Anika reported trying to straighten out her long black hair, a habit I knew she did whenever she was stressed.


    ¡°It¡¯s different for them. They come here, and everything is handed to them. They have shelter and food given to them. There was no desperation for them like there was for us,¡± Orion commented. ¡°I think we ought to give up on the farms and focus on the hunter-gatherer phase.¡±


    ¡°But... I thought farming was important,¡± I said, remembering our discussions about starting the farms.


    ¡°It is, but between the amount of selective breeding and fertilizers we need to get our crops to the level they are in the real world, the yield might not be great, especially with no pesticides. Not to mention the harvest is going to need all hands on deck. We don¡¯t even have a plow animal yet. It¡¯s a lot of work, even with...¡± Orion kept quiet as though he was about to reveal something that I suspected he knew---one of the farmers had their class, either James or Samar.


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    ¡°How are we going to manage calories then? Herman and you can¡¯t simply fish and hunt for everything. According to the stewardesses, there were over fifty people on that flight, not counting the two pilots and two staff.¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to make salt and nets. The shoals here are rich like the schools of Atlantic cod described before the Europeans arrived in America. We can use the salt to smoke and dry the fish to build up a supply. We need more people fishing,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°Fish alone is a poor diet. It¡¯ll cause scurvy,¡± Ethan said. ¡°That¡¯s why I suggested planting potatoes. They aren¡¯t great in vitamin C but better than nothing.¡±


    ¡°It was a good idea. Plus, they can store well. England and Ireland sustained themselves on potatoes and fish when times were tough,¡± Anika said.


    ¡°You serve fish and potatoes all day, and people are bound to mutiny,¡± Herman said with a sad smile. ¡°People don¡¯t need a reason to survive; they need a reason to live.¡±


    A silence fell over the group as though they had no other suggestions for that. We all knew we were on thin ice. Right now we were just barely meeting the first level of Maslow¡¯s hierarchy of needs.


    ¡°I think some people have used bones to make dice. Might be good for one of us to make chess and checker pieces and boards. Heck, we have magic cards. We should find a way to make a deck of playing cards,¡± Ethan suggested.


    ¡°How are we going to get people to work, though?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Exile,¡± Orion stated blankly without an ounce of emotion. ¡°Get them the hell out of here. When they come back begging, they¡¯ll be ready to work.¡±


    ¡°What?! No! That¡¯s way too harsh,¡± I was baffled he would even suggest that.


    ¡°We¡¯re already threatening to take away food, but it¡¯s not working,¡± Anika said glumly. ¡°Unless we can get a monetary system, people don¡¯t like working for free.¡±


    ¡°What can we even use for currency?¡± Ethan asked.


    ¡°Well... there are those dungeon coins,¡± I suggested.


    ¡°That gives too much power to the dungeon divers. It will encourage people to dive into the dungeon rather than do work out here,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°We have to set up a paperless credit system. You do work, you get credit,¡± Anika suggested.


    ¡°What about the people who can¡¯t work, like the very young and old?¡± Herman asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ll adjust the credit system for those with dependents like the tax code. As for the old, they can look after the children. We might have to think about schooling for them; the old and infirm can teach and babysit. They¡¯ll get credit that way,¡± Anika suggested.


    ¡°It won¡¯t make sense for one of us to be in charge of the credit system. If we sign our paychecks and decide who gets to eat and not based on our rating of them, we are pretty much dictators,¡± I said, shaking my head.


    ¡°Is that such a bad thing?¡± Orion shrugged. He stared intently at one of the shelters being chinked by Slate. ¡°Without someone with a clear long-term direction, this village will quickly descend into anarchy. If we ruled by democracy, nobody would want to work. Everyone will just lay in their shelters or go dungeon diving.¡±


    ¡°Rye, you forget we are Americans? Half of these people only just arrived, and we are telling them to live like communists. I don¡¯t want to be a Stalin or a Hitler,¡± I said.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t be. Be Lee Kuan Yew,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°Who?¡± I asked, not recognizing the name. ¡°Anyways, you aren¡¯t going to convince people to live in a dictatorship or some communist regime.¡±


    ¡°Wait, I thought we were an autonomous collective,¡± Ethan joked, and Orion covered his mouth with the back of his hand in a laugh.


    ¡°Even if you wanted to be some tin-pot dictator, you need strength to enforce policy. With no consequences for their actions, these folks will do what they please. You can threaten them, but your words will carry no weight if you don¡¯t have any power behind them,¡± Herman said, stroking his gray beard and looking contemplatively at the alien night sky.


    ¡°Herman, you can¡¯t be taking our dictatorship talk seriously now,¡± I scoffed.


    ¡°This is life and death, Bianca. Even in the United States, we have martial law to keep order in life-and-death emergencies, and an emergency is brewing, that¡¯s for damn sure,¡± Herman said sagely. ¡°I¡¯m an old man... I can¡¯t feed all these people. I can maybe catch four fish a day, and that¡¯s WITH my ability. Clark has been following me and learning, but he ain¡¯t got all those voodoo cards yet, so he ain¡¯t going to catch much. People are one day away from me getting a bad cough from starving or having to ration.¡±


    ¡°If I see someone not working, we¡¯re not feeding them. It¡¯s just that simple,¡± Orion gritted his teeth at the fact that we had to rely on Herman to feed the group.


    ¡°Yeah, and how will you enforce that, Orion?¡± Herman asked, laughing softly.


    Orion had a look of malice as he brandished his ivory-gripped knife, the moonlight reflecting off it and giving it a surreal glow.


    ¡°Oh please, Rye, just a couple of weeks ago you were probably sitting at home playing video games. You aren¡¯t going to use that thing,¡± I said, rubbing my head in frustration at the insanity of this conversation.


    ¡°I won¡¯t hurt anyone, just threaten them. No work, no food,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°You guys don¡¯t understand how hard it is for them. You¡¯ve been here longer. They miss their families. They are used to living in air-conditioned rooms and using computers to order what they want. Just please. I don¡¯t want to do that to them. I know you guys worked hard to bring food, and you are tired of doing most of the work, but give them some time,¡± I begged.


    This all had gotten out of hand. Everyone was so angry. This was just too much. I didn¡¯t feel like I could handle it; my stomach was in knots.


    Everyone around this so-called ¡°council¡± had no more words. We all were staring at different places, all feeling tired and bitter. All feeling too inept for the job of leading. All tired of talk.


    None of us ask for this position. We were never ready to tell people what to do.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to work on my distillation apparatus,¡± Anika let out a deep therapeutic breath. ¡°Lots to do. I¡¯ll catch you all tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°I have to clean some gut strings for thread and check on Alex¡¯s sutures,¡± Ethan nodded, smiled faintly, and took his leave.


    ¡°Son, can I talk to you?¡± Herman directed at Orion, and the old fisherman and the cook went their ways, walking towards the river.


    Probably organizing a coup. Good, someone like Herman or Orion should be in charge.


    I wandered uphill carrying a torch until I found a cliff. It was a trail I knew well. Below the cliff on the far horizon, I could see the lights of the shelter at the beach and the kilns firing nonstop. This was a place where I came to a lot when I was overwhelmed. It was all too much. Tears streaked down my face, blurring my vision. I knelt, covering my face and mouth with my hands, and I screamed at the top of my lungs into my palms, my nails digging into my forehead.


    <hr>


    The next day things would only get worse. I was working on upgrading my Pottery Skill to 5 and was putting the finishing touches on some terracotta lamps ready to be fired. Slate had been assigned to build an animal pen while Marek had the day off to spend with his family and plan out his own house.


    According to the hourglass, the time was around 5:00 pm when the dungeon team arrived back. Three of them, Alex, Sasha, and Cade, were carrying the body of Bryden. Bryden had been a sixteen-year-old boy with dreams of making it in the dungeon. Now his body was strewn with long cuts that looked to be made by several tigers. Ethan, our doctor, and Bryden¡¯s mother, Ruth, rushed over to the scene, the mother wailing ¡°Bryden!¡± as Ethan rushed over to monitor his heart and do chest compressions on the unconscious bloody boy, the boy¡¯s dungeon companions holding the inconsolable mother back.


    ¡°What the hell happened!¡± I asked as I came over, directly giving a glare to Alex, whose face was red but otherwise unharmed, his leather plate covered in gore and blood of others.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault. We got separated,¡± Alex said. ¡°When we came to his rescue, he was surrounded by gremlins. I swear we were careful. We were only farming level two.¡±


    ¡°Where the hell is Rye? I thought he went with you,¡± I asked.


    ¡°He¡¯s still in there. We got separated, and like Alex said, we had to leave him behind. Bryden just lost too much blood,¡± Cade, the young black dungeon diver, explained. The guard¡¯s legs were shaking while he held onto his bronze spear for support. All of them looked shaken as if they were overrun by enemies.


    Panic-stricken, I pulled out my card and checked the Dungeon card, which I was an owner of.


    <hr>


    Thornhill Dungeon Status: Open


    Current Occupants of Dungeon:


    None


    <hr>


    My heart skipped a beat when I saw Orion wasn¡¯t in the dungeon anymore, and my thoughts turned to a worst-case scenario. Hopefully, he was fine and got out. I clicked on the card, intending to close the dungeon.


    ¡°No more, Alex. I warned you,¡± I said coldly.


    Alex started to argue, but Ethan, who had stopped doing chest compressions and given up his attempt to resuscitate Bryden, shook his head despondently, cutting off any attempts at a debate.


    Ethan came over to the mother and said in a soft, wilting voice, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t save him. He... just lost too much blood.¡±


    ¡°This is all your fault,¡± Ruth pointed at Alex and then at me, ¡°You and you other stupid kids! Playing your games! THIS ISN¡¯T A GAME. THIS IS MY SON! MY SON!¡±


    Ruth held her son¡¯s body staining her clothes with his blood, crying uncontrollably while more folks gathered around. Wails of ¡°my son¡± and ¡°all their fault¡± echoed throughout the base, and people stood around realizing the finality of their mortality in this world. There was no coming back. No waking up. This was their lives now, and one more was gone from it.


    We had a small service for Bryden as Slate dug up a grave for the boy and we marked his grave with a wooden cross. No coffin; we simply couldn¡¯t afford to spare the lumber or the time to make it. Orion came back before the service started with an apologetic look. Ruth was too upset and angry to speak at the small service, so Herman said a few words instead; he looked and sounded like he had given many eulogies in his long service career.


    The whole thing didn''t feel real at all. I just wanted to hide during the entire ordeal.


    Orion said it was for the best when I broke the news that I would close the dungeon and apologized for everything.


    The next day, the first death in Thornville still haunted the community. I wanted so badly to run away from my responsibilities and have someone else take over.


    I should have been more careful about what I wished for.

 Chapter 20

    Chapter 20


    Orion - Day 10 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 30


    Our council meeting was essentially over. The town meeting had proceeded as anticipated: the newcomers complained, and Bianca appeased them with her usual grace. Our council meeting, too, unfolded predictably. We were all expected to shoulder the burden and grant the newcomers more time. The only problem was that the newcomers outnumbered the council, and more were coming.


    Herman had come to me after the council meeting requesting a talk.


    ¡°Son, can I talk to you?¡± Herman asked me, and we made our way to the campfire.


    ¡°What is it, Herm?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Do you plan on taking over as the leader of this place?¡± Herman asked, crossing his legs when he sat on the log bench near the campfire.


    ¡°No, of course not,¡± I said. ¡°Ethan, Anika and I have an understanding that Bianca should be the leader.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t want the job?¡± Herman reached over to stoke the fire.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that. It needs to be someone like Bianca. Someone who can stay in the base and cares about everyone. Anika and Ethan don¡¯t like telling people what to do and I only care about myself and my brother."


    ¡°Then they all need to know you support her. You can¡¯t constantly issue commands or make decisions. When Bianca makes a decision, you have to follow it.¡±


    ¡°But, you disagreed with her too, Herm,¡± I said, not understanding what I felt to be hypocrisy.


    ¡°I gave her my counsel and advice, I did not tell her what to do or what we should do. There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    ¡°Everyone knows where I stand with Bianca,¡± I said, unsure of what Herman was getting at.


    ¡°Act like it. Support her. She doesn¡¯t need a yes man, so offer her your thoughts, but if she makes a decision, you stick by it. Especially in front of the group.¡±


    ¡°We need her to get hard, Herm. You know that,¡± I said.


    ¡°She¡¯s her own person; she¡¯ll figure it out. If you¡¯re not willing to take command, then be her sword. A captain needs her soldiers to have her back, and not just in your head and heart where no one can see it. You have to show the rest of the soldiers out there too.¡± Herman reached over and patted me on the shoulder.


    A cough came over the old man, and in the campfire light, the lines on his face seemed deeper, each one an intense ripple on his onyx face.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Yeah... my body ain¡¯t young anymore. I haven¡¯t worked this hard since I was in boot camp. It¡¯s not the fishing so much, it¡¯s the walking. So much damned walking,¡± Herman rubbed his knees. ¡°Anika is giving me some bark juice she made. It helps some.¡±


    ¡°Take it easy, alright, Herman,¡± I said, rubbing his back. ¡°Let your assistant carry and bring in the fish.¡±


    Herman smiled faintly as he parted, limping his way to his shelter. It wasn¡¯t fair that we relied so much on an old man for half of our food, but nothing in this world was fair.


    I walked to the stockpile to fetch some rope for a project I had and noticed most of it was used up. We had assigned a couple of the new people to make more rope, but it looks as though we ended up with less rope at the end of the day than we had at the beginning.


    Cass came over when he saw me sitting on a tree trunk in the stockpile, braiding rope together using plant fibers that Slate had harvested earlier. My younger brother came over and helped me braid the rope and told me about his day. He had spent it with the other kids and Roza. Cass also told me that he could hit the tree eight out of ten times now with the sling. I asked him if he could collect stones for chess and go pieces and he thought it was a great idea.


    When I had enough rope, I tied several of them together in a checkerboard fashion over a bent tree branch to create a basic fishing net. The leftover rope I left in the stockpile; I would need it tomorrow.


    Basic fishing net - D


    Fish 20% less likely to escape


    In the beach shelter, I saw several people whose names I didn''t know lying down or hanging out by the new clay lanterns, talking or winding down for the day. I nodded to them in greeting as I left the fishing net by the place where Herman stored his two fishing rods. We were running low on salt, so I fetched some clay pots and seawater and made some before I turned in for the night. Cass was already sound asleep when I got back to the second shelter, my shelter, and I could hear faint muffled crying from someone in the darkly lit wood shelter.


    In the morning, around dawn, I got up, holstered my knives, and set out for the stockpile. I grabbed some rope and draped it on my body like a satchel. I went west past the dungeon, past several streams, to locate some wild boar. A sounder of pigs was feasting on fallen acorns and wildflowers in a meadow. I spotted a mother and her three piglets near the stump of a fallen tree, digging up roots. Another larger boar, a male with long tusks, was feasting next to them. From the rock ledge that descended below where the animals were grazing, I hid, waiting. I planted four knives in a row on the dirt before me, readying them. With my Deadly Shot activated, I launched my first knife at the larger male boar and struck it straight in the cheek. With my next knife, and with my Deadly Shot on cooldown, I launched one straight into the gut of the sow, missing my true mark on her head. Two more knives came out and finished both, each one delivered to the neck of each pig. The piglets near the sow fled the scene in confusion but stayed a reasonable distance away.


    I started dressing the male boar, hanging it from a tree with the rope and gutting it. A midnight blue jackdaw the size of an owl was watching me on a tree. I took out the eyes from the pig and offered it to the black bird which it flew towards and gobbled up. After cleaning the carcass, I brought it back to our main mess hall to be prepared. I handed it to Gladys, my assistant who was peeling some wild garlic, who at this point knew how to render the fat of the animal for soap and fuel and prepare the meat in a stew.


    Coming back to the scene of the kill, I collected the rope hanging from the tree. The three hand-sized piglets were nursing on the dead mother, bugs, and flies already swarming around them. It felt like a waste to leave the mother''s body but it was ruined at this point. Instead, I would go after the piglets. With my rope, I snuck behind them to grab the piglets by their legs and tie them. I hauled the three tiny piglets, the size of guinea pigs, in my hands by their legs, the animals squealing all the way back to camp. Three stakes were planted, and three piglets were tied in the boundaries of the new animal pen while it was still being constructed.


    ¡°Aww, how cute. Can I name them?¡± Bianca asked as she came over to see me securing the rope around one piglet''s neck.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get attached to food,¡± I said.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to breed these?¡± Bianca wondered.


    ¡°Hopefully, but we¡¯ll still eat them in the end,¡± I shrugged.


    The piglets fed on our discards from yesterday¡¯s meal, and we brought plates of water to leave near their stakes.


    With the look of a used car salesman, Alex approached me as I started fetching some water, he and his fellow dungeon divers.


    ¡°Always rising early, aren¡¯t ya, Rion?¡± Alex said, patting me on the shoulder like a longtime friend.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s got to put food on the table,¡± I said, hopefully without a mark of bitterness.


    ¡°Look, we¡¯re going to the dungeon. Come with us. We can¡¯t get past floor 2. Five is better than four.¡±


    The four of them, besides Alex, didn¡¯t exude confidence or the aura of a traditional dungeon-diving team. Cade was a tall Black youth who held a bronze spear like a cane. The other two, whose names I forgot, both looked like high school kids; the younger boy was peppered with acne and had a constant nervous look. The olive-skinned female of the group was a slacker who used to do farming but was convinced to go diving instead. She always had a smug look plastered on her face. Alex, however, looked more and more heroic as the days passed. His armor set was coming along nicely, and his chubbiness was fading with the exercise and new world diet, the line of his jaw becoming more toned.


    ¡°He¡¯s probably scared, one of those all-talk types,¡± the female of the group said. ¡°Didn¡¯t the two of you get blown out, and you had to save him the last time you went down there? He¡¯ll probably slow us down.¡±


    Well, that was one strategy to get me interested in going down there. I was weak, I have to admit. That bait wouldn¡¯t have worked on a stronger person, but I was weak. Another part of me wanted to think I was being pragmatic. I needed bags. A backpack, a satchel, just anything to hold in stuff that I could carry on my body would make my work so much easier. We were currently working on leather, but the curing and tanning process would take some time before we could construct leather bags.


    ¡°I have some time,¡± I said coldly, readying my knife. ¡°Already did most of my chores.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t slow us down,¡± the girl smiled challengingly, and the five of us set off to the dungeon.


    I picked up some rope, which I draped upon myself as a sash as we made our trek to the dungeon. There was an idea I wanted to test in the dungeon. I would also take my copper mace from a previous run and latch it to my body with a rope holster I made for it. Five obsidian throwing knives would be strapped against my body to my belt, two of which were freshly stoned to replace my old ones. I would take a piece of flint as well in case I needed to start a fire. My last supplies would be some pork cracklings sprinkled with salt and dried herbs that I wrapped in palm leaves, and a smoked chicken wing of the scarlet fowl wrapped in palm leaves. I checked a jar I held in the corner of my possessions in the hut to see if the crab claws I had stored from a previous hunt were still good. After a quick sniff test, it smelled fishy and pungent, so I decided I would feed them to the piglets later rather than risk it for the crab buff.


    Fried Wild Boar Skin - D


    Boar Padding: 10% resistance against piercing and slashing attacks for 3 hours


    Smoked Scarlet Fowl Chicken Wing - D


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl: 10% increase in top sprinting speed for 1 hour


    On my way to the dungeon, I saw some resin on the trees and coated one of my throwing knives with it. I wanted to use my Firewielder skill in combination with my Throwing Weapon skill.


    Was I trying to impress my party members?


    I made an observation as the five of us ventured into the dungeon entrance. ¡°You guys are all melee.¡±


    Cade was carrying a copper spear. The huge youth was a Guard class and would likely set up as a future tank. Alex was a Hero class that carried a copper sword. The girl was carrying a copper axe as well, while the young teenager was carrying a copper sword.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we needed you. You throw those knives from the back, and we do the chopping. I think Sasha wants to use a crossbow if we ever find one,¡± Alex ever smiling when thinking about the dungeon.


    ¡°What¡¯s prevented you from going to the third level?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a fucking maze down there,¡± Sasha grimaced. ¡°We always get so hungry before we find an exit, so we retreat and go back up.¡±


    ¡°You know, if you stayed around the camp, you could dry some meat to bring with you on your adventures. Maybe make a backpack for supplies, some camping gear,¡± I suggested, trying to get the party to help around camp.


    ¡°The dungeon will provide everything,¡± Alex kept smiling merrily along and whistled a tune as if we weren¡¯t going into a possible death scenario.


    Before we entered the dungeon, I ate a piece of the pork crackling I was saving to keep track of the time and then wrapped the rest for later.


    The first floor of the dungeon went smoothly. The rats fell to my stealth-throwing knife and charge technique. Alex had wanted the sixteen-year-old kid he brought to get experience, so Bryden, as I found out his name upon Alex''s command, took the final stab at it. One thing about the rat meat that came here was that it was always rancid and rotten when we brought it back; in any case, I had no room anywhere on my body to carry it.


    The two chests on the floor contained a copper, or as we started calling it, starter sword and a leather cuirass, which we gave to Cade. I felt terrible about leaving such a weapon, the copper sword, but the group said it would only slow us down, and the camp didn¡¯t need another sword or mace; it just wasn¡¯t useful. That was our logic at the time, and it made sense. If I had to drag a sword with my armament of obsidian throwing knives, my ivory-hilted long knife, and my mace, it would make responding to an attack awkward and slow.


    The second floor was a series of empty cells of black iron and long maze-like hallways that led to dead ends or open rooms with black iron manacles nailed to the walls, one on top for the hands and another set of black iron manacles on the bottom for the feet. We found our first stairway, and I had flashbacks of my last time here when I was fighting off a group of gremlins back-to-back with Alex in the staircase. As I expected, this was the same stairway we fought in; however, the layout had been switched and was now on a lower floor level, and the floors somehow kept shifting the configuration like a sliding tile puzzle.


    This time, six gremlins came out of the shadows of the open cells of the literal dungeon, their yellow eyes glaring at us as we entered the floor. With his long reach, Cade thrust his spear in rapid successive strikes that made the air whistle. I saw a card he pulled up called ¡°Spear Flurry¡± levitate in the air before him, become tapped, and then gray out in a cooldown.


    Alex pulled out his card, Holy Strike, and his sword came down in a vertical slash, dissecting a gremlin in half in searing white light. Not wanting to be outdone, I pulled out Deadly Shot and tossed a knife that went between the eyes of another gremlin, this one far to the right. When two more approached, Alex dismembered their arms in a precision strike. He backed off, smiled, and waited until Sasha and Bryden came forward to finish them, passing off the killing experience.


    ¡°Did you get a class?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°No, still nothing yet,¡± Bryden sighed, disappointment plain on his acne-riddled face.


    ¡°Gotta keep trying. Everyone, check the cells for loot.¡±


    We cleared each cell one by one. Each cell stank of ammonia and rotten eggs, covered in grease and empty except one.


    ¡°Found one!¡± Cade called out, and like hungry wolves, we all rushed to check it out. Cade speared the chest for safety and opened it, pulling out a leather helm. The piece of armor looked like a brown leather swimming cap.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Leather Cap of Awareness - D


    20% increased dark vision


    It sounded like an amazing helm that I could use, but apparently, it was Bryden¡¯s turn for loot.


    Moving forward, there were more cells and more stairways. Another hallway led to a dead end with a lone shackle on the wall and an unlucky lone gremlin that fell to a spear in the back. I came forward to examine the skin of the gremlin, finding it sticky, probably hard to make into leather.


    Why isn¡¯t there any loot around here that I can bring back to camp? Give me a damn bag of holding. It would make life so much easier.


    Going down the hall of cells, we checked each cell one by one. Each room had a long hallway several yards wide with black iron bars. The cell doors had not been installed, so each cell was essentially open. The walls were lit with luminescent orange wisps that lit the dungeon like searchlights. Alex started kicking the wall at the end of the cells to check for any hidden walls. Finally, we found a wooden door at the end of the hallway with an iron lock. They all looked at me as if I was a rogue class and had a lockpick on me. I grabbed my mace and smashed the door to splinters, reaching behind to open the lock from behind.


    Thank you, Levi.


    Another stairway was on the other side of the door, with wide stone steps that led to an opening. Beyond that opening lay a room with three pathways to the front, right, and left. As I checked on my food buffs, I noticed my Boar Padding buff was gone, meaning three hours had passed. I reached into my pockets and unwrapped my leaf to eat another to bring it back up.


    ¡°We should split up,¡± Alex suggested. ¡°I¡¯ll take the center, Rion and Sasha take the right, and Cade and Bryden take the left.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a stupid idea,¡± I said. ¡°Every time someone says ¡®let¡¯s split up¡¯ in this situation, it doesn¡¯t go well.¡±


    ¡°Why do I have to go with this pussy anyway?¡± Sasha asked.


    I sighed and said, ¡°As much as I like the satisfaction of saying ¡®I told you so¡¯ later, let¡¯s just stick to one path together. We¡¯ll go center.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been here forever. Let¡¯s go back,¡± Cade said. ¡°Yo, I¡¯m starving.¡±


    ¡°These are low-level mobs. They are pretty much AFK farms at this point,¡± Alex said. ¡°Since Rion is afraid, he can go with me, and you three go to the left or right. It¡¯ll make it much faster.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Bryden nodded. ¡°Whenever we get here, we always take too long in these rooms.¡±


    ¡°Am I taking crazy pills, or is anyone not seeing the crazy red flags here? We stick together, or we go back,¡± I said, gritting my teeth.


    Alex ignored me and ventured to the center. I followed, but looking back, it seemed as though Sasha was going right, and Bryden and Cade were going left. I sighed and went back to follow Sasha.


    We both silently went back to another bend that turned back in the direction of where we came from, only to find a dead end with a chest. I threw a knife at the chest, which made Sasha laugh, saying, ¡°You are way too tense.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get why I¡¯m the only one worried about actually dying down here,¡± I said, collecting my knife as Sasha looted the treasure chest.


    ¡°You gotta figure we are in a shit life or death situation, no matter where we are, the dungeon or not. At least this place isn¡¯t a fucking chore. Oooh la la la, look what we have here.¡± Sasha pulled out a shortbow with a chocolate finish. In the chest, six copper bodkin arrows in a small leather quiver accompanied the weapon. She tossed the copper axe she came into the dungeon with aside, held the bow, and draped the quiver on her back.


    ¡°Do you know how to use that thing?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ll learn. Let¡¯s head back to the room and take the left path,¡± Sasha said and marched past me. Alex came back to the room with the four pathways at the same time as we did, looking triumphant, standing in the center of the room with his new copper helm in the style of a barbuta, a round dome of copper with a t-shaped opening that provided plenty of line of sight.


    ¡°Run into any problems?¡± Sasha gently caressed Alex¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Few of those gremlins, nothing I couldn¡¯t handle,¡± Alex smiled, and the two shared a look that made me want to tell them to go get a room.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go check on Cade and Bryden,¡± I suggested.


    The final unchecked room on the left revealed an altar chamber resembling an underground Colosseum. Rows of stone steps descended to a slate table, its surface strewn with monkey-like skulls. Eleven gremlins stood in single file, holding smaller gremlins in sacrifice before an orc with marble-like skin, seated on a rock throne. The orc''s eyes were completely black, and black blood streaked down from his lips to his chin. He was entirely naked, resembling a nightmarish statue. Towering at an estimated eight feet, he was a giant with arms and legs like thick tree trunks, each ending in black nails.


    We were some distance away near the back at the entrance, but we saw Cade and Bryden hiding behind a large stone pillar on the left wall, unsure of what to do. Cade clutched his spear tightly, while Bryden could barely keep his feet from buckling under him. A pool formed at Bryden''s feet, which made Cade squirm. It wasn''t long before the gremlins caught the scent.


    Well, that¡¯s not good.


    The orc on the throne got up, pointed in Cade and Bryden¡¯s direction, and issued a command to which all eleven gremlins swarmed the stone pillar. They swarmed like wild dogs at the two hiding behind the pillar and to their credit Cade and Bryden swung and thrust their weapons wildly to keep them at bay. The three of us watched no longer and charged forward. I had no trust in myself to throw a knife into that swarm of bodies and instead reached for my main long knife.


    Bryden was fighting off three who came at him at once. He swung his sword wildly, chopping the arm of one gremlin off, but another grabbed his legs. Desperate panic was in the teenager''s face. Screams of ¡°help¡± and ¡°mommy¡± came out as one gremlin clenched its mouth around his sword arm, causing a loud clang against the stone floor as Bryden¡¯s sword tumbled down the stairs towards the altar. More ¡°helps¡± and more ¡°mommys" echoed in the chamber. It was agonizing to watch as we cleared through other gremlins to get to him.


    Cade speared the gremlin on the ground reaching for Bryden¡¯s legs. Bryden made a frantic break for it only to have more gremlins claws rip at his back. A sword from Alex cleaved through the line of gremlins reaching for Bryden as he collapsed forward. Sasha let loose an arrow that wildly reared off course, nearly hitting Alex, who dodged it at the last second. I came through with a knife at the back of a gremlin lunging for Cade''s blindspot. Wild swings of my mace connected with a few limbs of gremlins reaching for Cade who was trying to clear a path to us.


    ¡°Pick him up, Cade! Carry him out! We¡¯ll hold these,¡± Alex shouted. A blue card was pulled out of Alex¡¯s palms and flashed before the Hero. A Holy Strike came down and cut a gremlin from the top of the goblin''s head down to the balls.


    "I''ll help," Sasha said, realizing the futility of her marksmanship. The young aspiring marksman stepped forward and lifted the bloody, unconscious boy, draping one arm over her shoulder. Cade did the same with the boy''s other arm, and together they helped him out of the stone altar room.


    There was just one problem: the orc had finally made his presence known. The boss of this level blocked the entrance of the way out, his marble figure stood watch like a gargoyle at our escape path.


    ¡°I¡¯ll distract it,¡± I said, ¡°Get him the hell out of here.¡±


    I withdrew my resined obsidian throwing knife and sparked it against my copper knife. My Firewielder card activated, and the knife lit up in flames. Pulling out my Deadly Shot in my palms, I threw my flaming knife straight between the eyes and took out its left. That was my first throwing knife. The shriek it let out nearly burst my eardrums. The pain of the still flaming dagger searing in its eye socket made it fall to its knees. Firewielder activated, causing the flame to erupt and sear the flesh around his eyes, causing more ear-piercing screams of an unknown language that was drenched in the promise of vengeance. My mace came out to deliver what I thought would be a final blow to its head, but a roar came from the orc that made me hesitate for one second, and then the back of the orc''s hand, hard as iron, crashed into my chest, sending me flying towards the corner of the room. My back smacked against the stone wall, knocking the wind out of me. I struggled to get on my feet as all the air had been pushed out of my lungs.


    The orc had only one thing on its mind: getting retribution for its eyes, blood gushed out of the orc¡¯s eye socket as it pulled out and tossed away the now extinguished knife. As it came for me, Cade and Sasha rushed past with Bryden in their arms. More gremlins strayed away from Alex, seeing the uselessness in challenging the Hero, as they swarmed to get towards the defenseless Sasha and Cade. Alex charged after them to cover Sasha and Cade¡¯s rear, leaving me alone with the orc.


    A fist came flying towards my face where I sat catching my breath and I dodged it, rolling to the side. I backed away from it, rushing down towards the altar, and hid behind the stone altar, using it as cover. Its steps were slow and methodical as it savored cornering its prey. Loud wheezing and cries of pain came from the orc with every step. I kept track of the orc¡¯s footsteps as it got closer and closer. In my pocket, I withdrew my smoked bird wing wrapped in a leaf and received its buff.


    Smoked Scarlet Fowl Chicken Wing - D


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl: 10% increase in top sprinting speed


    It gave me a prompt warning when it roared and lunged forward, reaching for the altar and I rolled out. I ran up the stairs past the orc towards the room with the four paths. In the room, a gremlin among the corpses of his fallen allies looked around confused, and I sent a Deadly Shot with my throwing knife to the back of its surprised face. That was my second throwing knife. I buried my long knife across its throat to finish it off. Rhythmic thumping sounds came from the altar room as the orc chased after me. I threw the gremlin body in the path of the door leading to the altar room and ran up from the way our party originally started.


    My body moved like wind but at a cost. The buff made me fast, but it also stretched my leg muscles to its limit, my calves felt like someone poured hot acid all over it.


    Back to the wide stairs and ascending them, I quickly lost most of my stamina. I realized I wasn¡¯t going to outlast this orc in a marathon to the exit, so instead I readied my rope in loops for a bowline knot. When I reached the top of the stairs at a hard sprint with the sound of my impending doom behind me, completely out of stamina and breath, I turned left to the left cells and tied my rope around the top chain of the black iron bars of the cell walls. I let the loosened rope drag across the floor as I hurried to the right side and needled the rope through the top of the iron bars on the right cell.


    I had to use every ounce of Tracking skill I had to place where I thought the orc was on the stairway. Closer. Closer still. Nearly at the top.


    When I heard the thumps of the orc right before where my rope trap lay in wait, I pulled on the rope and let my weight drag it down. The tight rope sprung up, tightened, and clotheslined the sprinting orc across the neck, causing it to gasp its neck in pain and get knocked backward. While the orc held its throat, I came forward and drop-kicked the orc in the chest, sending it flying back through the doorway and falling onto the stairs; its body fell to the bottom step like a ragdoll.


    My pursuer struggled to get up, pieces of bone sticking out of odd places on its legs and elbows, I took out my throwing knife and descended the stairs. One flew out and struck it in the back of the head. That was my third throwing knife. Another threw out and struck it in the back of its neck. That was my fourth throwing knife. Another one in its back. That was my last throwing knife. My mace came down when I reached the bottom step and made the orc¡¯s head into pink and gray paste.


    I collected three of my knives from its body and then my rope from the top cells. My brain was telling me I should go back up, but I killed the boss, right? This had to be the boss. A blue card revealed over its body and it was played, giving out 3 coins. That brought me to 12 jester coins.


    When I came back to the altar room, bodies of gremlins and blood littered the stone chamber. I collected all the coins there bringing me up to 20 jester coins. Behind the throne, a pathway opened up as a stone wall slid up to reveal a dark passage. Beyond, the light of a blue chest came into being and was placed between two stairways. One stairway went up to the light. The other down to darkness.


    Second Floor First Completion Chest was presented to me when I approached the blue chest. Opening the treasure chest revealed 3 item cards that were presented before me.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 25.6216%">Chef Hat of Magic Repel - C</td>


    <td style="width: 43.7031%">Magic projectiles that target your head have a 30% chance to miss</td>


    <td style="width: 30.6483%">For those truly ruthless food critics</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 25.6216%">Apron of Many Knives - C</td>


    <td style="width: 43.7031%">Can hold up to eight knives. Knives placed in the apron are drawn quicker</td>


    <td style="width: 30.6483%">A chef can never have too many knives</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 25.6216%">Leather Boots of Steadiness - C</td>


    <td style="width: 43.7031%">More resistant to slips and falls</td>


    <td style="width: 30.6483%">A kitchen is a very wet place after all</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    I should have spent more time thinking over the choice but I immediately grabbed the apron. I would no longer have to carry them strapped awkwardly to my belt, it would grant me so much more agility. I put the black apron on, tied it to my person, and transferred my knives into the front pockets. I collected up the coins in the treasure chest bringing my total up to 25 jester coins.


    Greed and pride overwhelmed me as I wanted to descend. I descended.


    <hr>


    The room I had entered was familiar. It was the same place where I met the Card Dealer. No... not exactly. A cosmic void had filled the endless horizon but instead of a singular open round table, there were a series of glass cabinets, each holding cards in it. Below each card would show a number assigned to it. Attending the table like a jeweler was a man-sized red shorthair cat with a Cheshire grin in a jester outfit and a cap of blue polka dots. As I approached the counter, the Jester cat laughed hysterically and juggled what appeared to be balls filled with galaxies in his hand before dropping them.


    ¡°Come and look. Come and see. All the cards I have for thee. Spend your coin. Become reborn. And the strong ye shall join,¡± the Jester said.


    Resisting an overwhelming urge to reach over and pet the cat in the hat, I looked over his wares. The first three cards presented in the middle cabinet were:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 63.2276%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0574%">Axe Mania - C</td>


    <td style="width: 71.0951%">Consecutive swings of your axe on a target deal more damage</td>


    <td style="width: 9.81576%">70 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0574%">Knife¡¯s Edge - C</td>


    <td style="width: 71.0951%">Your knives are never dull. The most dangerous tool in a kitchen is a dull knife. </td>


    <td style="width: 9.81576%">40 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0574%">Whip it Good - B</td>


    <td style="width: 71.0951%">Your whips reach a meter longer.</td>


    <td style="width: 9.81576%">100 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0574%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 71.0951%; text-align: center">Only one perk may be purchased this run from this level''s store.


    </td>


    <td style="width: 9.81576%"> </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    On another cabinet to the right, the cards presented were:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 63.3481%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0235%">Reversed Hourglass</td>


    <td style="width: 71.2429%">Restore all your buffs, health, hunger, thirst, and cooldowns to the same as when you entered the dungeon</td>


    <td style="width: 9.70197%">10 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0235%">Mark of Greed</td>


    <td style="width: 71.2429%">Enemies will drop one extra coin for the rest of the dungeon run but will be 20% tougher to kill</td>


    <td style="width: 9.70197%">10 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 19.0235%">Token of Bravery</td>


    <td style="width: 71.2429%">Can only be used for this run. Receive a marble. Smash this marble in the ground to return to the dungeon entrance.</td>


    <td style="width: 9.70197%">10 coins</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    In the glass cabinet to the left, the three cards presented were:


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 75.0405%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 29.8254%">Bronze Crossbow of Repulsion - C</td>


    <td style="width: 61.0608%">Enemies get knocked back 1 meter if you deal a critical strike</td>


    <td style="width: 9.07781%">150 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 29.8254%">Iron Halberd of Insight - C</td>


    <td style="width: 61.0608%">Skills used by the Halberd have a 20-second reduction in cooldown cost</td>


    <td style="width: 9.07781%">300 coins</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 29.8254%">Iron Throwing Knives of Blinding (3) - C</td>


    <td style="width: 61.0608%">Enemies struck by this have an increased chance of missing their next attack</td>


    <td style="width: 9.07781%">100 coins</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Damn. Everything I wanted was out of my price range. There was one thing that caught my interest though, a cabinet behind the jester showing a card with a lock and a card with dice on it. The lock was priced at two jester coins while the dice was priced at five jester coins.


    ¡°What are these?¡± I asked the cat jester.


    ¡°If you find the price too steep, lock the card you want to keep. If you find the selection poor, roll the dice to find some more,¡± the jester covered his grin with his huge furry paws and snickered as if he had just told the funniest joke.


    I came around to the other side, took four of my twenty-five coins, and deposited them into the slot above the lock. Two lock cards were presented to me in the air. I grabbed them and deposited them into the slot for Knife¡¯s Edge and Throwing Dagger of Blinding. A steel frame portrait wrapped them up after I had locked them.


    ¡°Two doors ye shall find if you are done. The door up takes you home, the door down to more fun.¡± More laughter from the cat.


    Done with my transaction and curious to see what the next floor was like, I took the door down.


    Upon stepping onto the floor, I was on a ledge that overlooked an expansive plain of swampland. Across the domain were towers of stone and ruined stone ramparts. Knee-deep water covered the lands and was broken by mudbars crowned with marsh bushes adorned with purple flowers. In the distance, monstrous crocodiles standing on two feet with bronze scales and claws the length of daggers patrolled the area. I turned around and went back up.


    <hr>


    I couldn¡¯t help but feel proud of how I reached floor three first, I nearly skipped my way back to the camp. My pride and joy came to a halt as I finally got back and saw the mess our adventures left in the village.


    Bianca¡¯s face of disappointment said it all. Like a boy sneaking home past his curfew, I kept my head low and looked apologetic, trying to avert my gaze from her wrath and standing near the back during Herman¡¯s eulogy to Bryden.


    When they tossed Bryden¡¯s bloody body into his open grave, I was angry at myself. Angry for letting it happen and angry at how little I felt about his death.

 Chapter 21

    Chapter 21


    Clark


    Day 3 of Landing, Day 12 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 32


    Too early for me to be waking up like this, but you know what they say, early bird catches the worm that catches the fish.


    Herman, our fisher, had woken me up. ¡°Time to fish. Lots of people to feed,¡± he said.


    Ol'' Herm is always up bright and early. Puts all us young fellas to shame.


    Me and the old lady got transferred to what they call the beach shelter, or shelter one, on account of it being close to the beach. My job was to help out Herman, you see. Herman was the angler, bringing in all kinds of fish for the village. So that was where I found myself lying when Herman woke me up, right next to my old girl Sloane.


    "Keep Herman safe and help him out," Bianca said to me when she assigned me to this post.


    I don''t know if she''s the leader or anything like that, but when Bianca says something, folks usually follow it, on account of her having that huge stone monster. You don''t want to cross someone who put a roof over your head and has a monster, that''s for damn sure.


    It was seven in the morning, according to Ol'' Herm. They used sundials and sand to tell the time here since none of us could bring along watches or cell phones. All I knew was that it was early---too early for me, at least. I¡¯d usually work in the evenings or afternoons. Never was no early bird, but I can¡¯t let Ol¡¯ Herm work all by his lonesome.


    The old-timer was looking over his fishing rod and mine, checking to make sure they were good to go for the day. We had a lot of people to feed, after all. The doctor, Ethan, had given Herman some new, longer strings for his rods, and now he was replacing his old strings with the new ones.


    Herman had this ability, some voodoo magic about him that let him work magic into those fishing lines and rods. I ain''t never seen anything like it, but sure enough, whenever he cast those things, they would never snap on him. He told me if I worked hard enough and wanted it, I would get it too, but I ain''t never seen that strange card dealer they keep telling me about.


    Besides our two fishing rods, we also had black knives for gutting and prepping the fish and a new fishing net. When I asked if Herm made this all himself he said he had some help from a guardian angel. The old man started grabbing all our stuff but I had to come over and help him with it.


    "I''ll take that, Herm. You take it easy now, you hear?" I told him.


    "I can carry my own fishing rod at least," Herman huffed. The old-timer carried that thing everywhere. Only left it alone when he slept. Besides the net and the fishing rod, I carried a wooden basket Bianca and Slate made for us. A rope was tied to it, so I wrapped it around my body like an ox, dragging the thing across the sand when we fished.


    "Orion will kill me if I don''t carry it for you, Herm," I said.


    "Talk to you, did he?" Herman harrumphed in annoyance.


    "Scared me something awful. You don''t mess with the cook, Herman, that''s for damn sure."


    A voice came out of the shelter we called home that I knew all too well. Dangit but I didn¡¯t want to wake her from her sleep but it can¡¯t be helped, I ¡®spose.


    "Aren''t you forgetting something, sugar?" Sloane asked.


    My beautiful old lady was still lying on the floor, brushing her straw-colored hair out of her face. She yawned, which made me yawn, and I came over to plant a kiss on her lips. We held hands for what felt like a minute before I let go, though the little woman sure didn''t want to let me go, that''s for sure. My fingers were locked onto hers like some Chinese finger trap. Wouldn¡¯t let me go and heck I wouldn''t have if I didn''t have a job to do.


    "Take care of him, Herman. He''s a terrible swimmer," Sloane yelled as we departed.


    "Pretty girl," Herman remarked with a coy smile. "How''d an ugly southern boy like you reel a catch like that one in?"


    "Oh come on now, Herm, I ain''t that ugly," I told him.


    "Let me guess, church? High school sweetheart?" Herman laughed at my reddening face.


    Sloane was my pride and joy, but I didn''t like it when other guys bugged me about her.


    "I met her at a restaurant. She''s a waitress. A friend of mine dared me to ask her, and, hell, funny enough, she said yes," I said.


    I wasn''t bragging or nothin''. I knew how lucky I was to have Sloane.


    "So, a short fling?" Herman settled on a spot when he spotted bluebirds in the distance flying above silvery shoals of fish on a rocky flat. There were craters of water filled with small crabs, snails, clams, and whatnot.


    "Nah. We''ve been dating for two years now. I was going to fly to New York to ask her parents to let me marry her."


    The old-timer picked up a clam and used a black knife. He shucked it, tore a piece of the clam, and attached it to a fishbone hook on the end of his fishing rod. When I presented my hook, he sliced another piece of the clam for mine. Herman rolled up his pants to his knees and started wading through the shallows of the water. I stood by the edge of the rock flats instead of wading into the water like the old-timer but followed his example of rolling up my pants to my knees. I reckon Herm''s fishing rod had no business casting as far as it did, given that it was made with what looked like bamboo and a few strings, but boy, did it fly far.


    "What did you do, Clark? On Earth, that is,¡± Herman asked.


    "On Earth... ah heck..." I realized we might not be on Earth on account of that funny moon and these magical golem and cards. "I was moving from job to job. Used to work at Costco and then... well, I figure me and Sloane can move to Texas or Alaska, and I get me a welding certificate."


    "No college?" Herm asked.


    I always did feel mighty embarrassed whenever someone asked me that. It wasn''t like I was stupid or anything, I don''t want to give y''all the wrong impression. I just never tried that hard at school, and college was never in the cards for me. I always fell asleep real quick every time I cracked open a book. Figured that ain''t the life for me.


    "Nah. No money for that. I figure I might join the military like you, Herm, and maybe find a trade or something," I said.


    "You know, you''re taking being stuck out here pretty well, Clark," Herman smiled that old smile of his as he squinted in the distance.


    "Ah shucks, I got the love of my life here with me, and I get to spend it on a beautiful beach like this with all you lovely folks. I tell you, some rich folks would pay a pretty penny for an experience like this back home," I didn''t want to tell Herm I was just as spooked and nervous as the rest of them. Ol'' Herm was always worrying about how people were taking it, being stranded here and all.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    "You like fishing? Is this what you want to do?" Herman asked.


    "It beats working the dirt. I mean, I don''t mind that so much, but some folks back there have a tougher lot. I feel lucky doing this." I meant it, too. I went fishing with my Pa back at home when we moved to Florida. Mostly catfish, and we didn¡¯t use no tree branches for rods neither. Something about fishing with Herm just felt like fishing with my Pa, I s''pose.


    "You might be here a long while, son," Herman said with an ounce of sadness. "You might as well find something you love to do."


    "The council asked me when they started getting a forge up if I''d like to try blacksmithing on account of me wanting to be a welder," I said shrugging. "I don''t know the first thing about smithing, but it sounds important. I can be a real big shot around here if I start smithing, and maybe Bianca and that golem can build me and Sloane our own house if we do real good. I can make you a mean rod, too, if I get those powers like you all have."


    "Well, I can''t say I won''t miss you being around here," the old-timer smiled sadly.


    "Ah come on, Herm. Nothing''s decided as of yet. I''ll still be here for some time," I reassured the old codger.


    "What did you think about all that happened yesterday?"


    "That business with Bryden? Well, shoot, I didn''t know him all that well but it sucks, don''t it?"


    "How did your girl take it?" Herman asked.


    "She just told me if she ever catches me in the dungeon, she''ll cut off my nuts," I laughed.


    Truth was, we all felt sorry for Ruth. Bad business that. Left a bad taste in all our mouths. Got people second-guessing Bianca and her decision to leave the dungeon open.


    "Get the net ready, son. I think I got one," Herman''s face contorted in pain as he tried to wrestle the thing. I dropped my line, grabbed the net, and came over to help the old man pull the fish in.


    Nothing made Ol'' Herm smile more than a catch. The old-timer loved fishing. The fish struggled against that flimsy-looking line, but it never did break, not once. One of them magic cards appeared, and Herm''s face grimaced as he tried to pull it in. We didn''t have any reels, so I had to pull the line by hand. When we could see the fish near the shallows, I readied my net and scooped the rascal up. We netted the fish and placed it in our wood basket we rested on the rock flats with all them craters and clams. Ol'' Herm looked damn proud as he looked over his catch, an arm-length fishy with dark stripes like a zebra. He held the Fishing card in front of me to read it, and it said: "Azure Reach Mackerel"


    "D grade," the old fisherman said and baited his hook again with the last of the clam. He deposited the empty shells into the wood basket, along with our catch of the day.


    "What''s that supposed to mean?" I asked.


    "It''s the fish rating. I haven''t caught a C grade yet. The cards rate you like a school test, I reckon. I suppose if I catch me a swordfish or tuna, they ought to give me at least a B," Herm laughed heartily as he cast his rod again, a wide arc like a rainbow before his hook landed near the shoals of fish the bluebirds were circling.


    "We''d need a boat for that, don''t we?"


    ¡°We sure do. They¡¯ll get to it, eventually. Somewhere out there is a fish that will let me ace this test of theirs.¡± Herm looked giddy, like a child waiting for Christmas. He sure did. Just for a moment, in the glare of the sun, I thought he looked like a young man in his twenties. Just for a moment.


    More time passes, and me and ol¡¯ Herm shoot the breeze about all kinds of stuff. The weather out here sure was beautiful. It was a warm day that wrapped you like a cozy blanket, but then the cool breeze would come right after and lift your spirits. It wasn¡¯t perfect, mind you, out here roughing it with the others. I¡¯d do anything right now for a smoke and maybe an ice-cold beer, but I couldn¡¯t complain too much.


    Around noon, we¡¯d scored about two more of those mackerels in our basket and headed back for lunch when we spotted a stranger. The strange new man ¡°came¡± or, as the others would say, ¡°spawned¡± near the rock flats. Me and Herman helped prop that poor fella up on his feet. The man had a black jacket with yellow stripes on the sleeves and shoulders. He picked up his pilot cap off the ground that must have gotten knocked off when he came here and put it on.


    ¡°Are you the pilot, sir?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Where... what happened? What happened to the plane?¡± the pilot asked in a thick Texan accent looking around like he dropped his wallet.


    ¡°Plane? There ain¡¯t no plane, sir,¡± I answered, confused.


    ¡°You one of the passengers? Where... what---¡± The pilot stared at the sea horizon, startled and confused. He took off his hat again and ran his hands through his graying black hair. His face was hard and lined with crow¡¯s feet. He looked to be in his fifties, as old as my Pa maybe. His small beady eyes examined the area, taking in all the information he could, and gathering his bearings.


    ¡°Captain... Captain Alvarez, is it?¡± Herman asked, looking at the man¡¯s name tag. ¡°You might want to brace yourself, Captain. I have a lot to explain to you.¡±


    ¡°We have to find the other survivors,¡± the captain said in a commanding voice. ¡°You were both on the plane, yes? We need to find the wreckage of the plane and signal for help.¡±


    ¡°Sir... if you may, I have to explain our situation,¡± Herman said in a soft, soothing voice.


    The captain¡¯s legs constantly hammered impatiently as Herman told him everything everyone had told me. How it¡¯s been twelve days since they ¡°crashed¡±. How we were stuck on another planet. I¡¯ll be honest, I couldn¡¯t believe it at first until I saw the moon at night. I ain¡¯t no astronomer, but the moon does not look like that. The captain didn¡¯t believe it at first, even with me backing ol¡¯ Herm. The captain paid a little more attention when Herman pulled out that magic trick of his.


    ¡°So how many are there? This camp you speak of?¡± the captain asked again, in a rushed, curt way that sparked a man to action.


    ¡°It¡¯s more of a village at this point, Captain. And by this point, given you are the first person who came through today that I¡¯ve seen at least, 34?¡± Herman said. ¡°No, wait, 33.¡±


    Herm looked real regretful, thinking about that boy who lost his life.


    Captain Alvarez stroked his black mustache contemplatively. ¡°What about my copilot? Have you seen him?¡±


    ¡°Just you, Capt¡¯n. You and two flight attendants so far,¡± I answered.


    ¡°There were 59 people on that plane,¡± the captain explained. ¡°If what you say is true, then we are still missing a whole bunch. Take me to your camp. I¡¯ll talk to the passengers.¡±


    ¡°Sir, I should have you know that Bianca and Orion more or less run things there. You ought to heed their advice,¡± Herman implored.


    ¡°I understand, but my duty is to the passengers of the plane. We¡¯ll see the situation there first,¡± Captain Alvarez said.


    Herm gave the captain the old tour of the place, showing him our first shelter and all those gadgets in our camp like the sundial and hourglasses. I had never seen Herman so worried before. He was sensing bad things were coming, and I was smart enough to figure out why. There would be a power struggle between the captain and the council.


    ¡°This is incredible. You built all this in twelve days? It¡¯s unbelievable,¡± the captain said, looking every which way, taking it all in like a kid in a candy store.


    ¡°Mostly Slate and Marek,¡± Herman answered.


    ¡°You say Slate is a golem, yes? Some rock creature?¡± the captain asked.


    Herman nodded grimly. More and more, the villagers spotted the captain as he toured the camp, and some dropped what they were doing to come over to see him and pepper him with questions. Before the captain was even escorted to the second shelter, a crowd had started to form near the stockpile. Word was spreading around camp, and darn near everyone came to see.


    ¡°Captain, how are we going to get back?¡± a lady asked.


    ¡°Captain, what¡¯s the best course of action?¡± a man asked.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the plane?¡±


    ¡°Those kids are making me a slave here! Do something!¡±


    ¡°My son, Captain. My son!¡±


    ¡°Where can we get some damned toilet paper around here?¡±


    ¡°Do you have a cigarette on you?¡±


    And just when it couldn¡¯t get any messier, Bianca and Aaliyah returned from the beach with two new people. One was a young Asian belle, and the other was another pilot, First Officer Kestrel, a man in his forties with grey eyes and thinning brown hair. The captain and his first officer shook hands and discussed the situation. Bianca wanted to speak up but shrank under the weight of these new authority figures, I reckon. She looked nervous as hell, and it didn¡¯t help that Orion was probably off hunting some boar or muskrats.


    ¡°I understand a lot of you have questions. I understand there is a mess hall close by where we all can sit and meet. Everyone will meet there, and I will explain the course of action,¡± the captain commanded, and then the crowd buzzed something fierce.

 Chapter 22

    Chapter 22


    Orion


    Day 12 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 35


    Five food buffs. That was how many I could have on at once. I tested it with a piece of crab claw, scarlet fowl, wild boar, clam, muskrat, and finally, a new creature---a turtle. Killing the turtle was not pleasant. I loved turtles. Yet, the river was plentiful with them and to survive, we would have to exploit the land.


    When I ate the turtle, simply fried in muskrat tallow, it reminded me of a mix between chicken and beef. The buff it provided was similar to the boar buff.


    Fried Turtle Meat - D


    Hard Shell


    Blunt attacks against you do less damage for 2 hours


    My five other food buffs were:


    Hide of the Muskrat


    Grants a brief shield against rain and water


    Scarlet Fowl Flight


    10% Increase in top sprint speed


    Boar Padding


    10% resistance against piercing and slashing


    Crab Carapace


    Weak protection against fire magic and projectiles


    Rock Clam


    Remove chill for one hour


    The Hard Shell buff I received after eating the turtle meat knocked out the first buff I had received: Rock Clam. Only five buff cards would spawn from Soul Food, my legendary skill.


    Now that I knew this, I could build a base of food to have at all times. I would need to start drying and smoking various meats and cooking stuff like pemmican or dried meatbars to have buffs at my beck and call. I would also need to increase the quality of the meats, with spices or marinades, to improve the rating, thus increasing the duration and effectiveness of the buffs.


    Five more turtles would have to face my knife as I closed my eyes to their demise, the reptiles wriggling helplessly on their backs as I tried to make their end as quick as possible. Inside, I died a little with every cut. Turtles were one of my favorite animals, but when the world gives you turtles, you make turtle soup. I threw their dark irony meat into a large clay pot on the mess hall¡¯s campfire and then added some muskrat tallow to brown the meat.


    I had learned a rule about cooking that the buff provided would be the one with the key ingredient. If I ate a roasted chestnut, the chestnut would be the main provider of the buff. However, if I ate a boar tenderloin with roasted chestnuts over it, depending on if the boar meat weighed greater than the weight of the roasted chestnuts, the boar meat would be the one giving me the buff. If they complement each other, I would receive both buffs. This didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t enhance the dishes with things like wild plants and spices. A better-cooked dish meant the rating of the dish would go up, and the effect and duration of the food would be better. That was what I theorized from my experiment so far.


    The leveling has been slowing down despite my daily cooking. I am a level seven Cook now. My first levels in most things came quickly, but now I had to grind out levels to get anywhere. My skills would constantly have to be honed and kept sharp, or else they would degrade like my Pottery skill. I concluded that I would need better equipment and more complex recipes to progress to level 10.


    In relation to my progress on skills, Ethan had shown me how to suture for emergencies, but despite his teaching, I never received his skill in the card. We theorized that we had natural or class-related abilities that would not unlock or level up according to our potential and current aptitude. Ethan leveled up quickly in his class-related abilities like Suture, Prescribe, and Diagnose while remaining low level in more universal skills like Crafting and Pottery.


    Interrupting my train of thought while cooking, I noticed a mob of people approaching from the beachside.


    Well, looks like the classless finally got sick of my shit. I think I could take at least five on before they got me.


    To my surprise, two pilots in uniform came leading the charge. I knew where this was going immediately. I sighed and tossed a few wild onions, garlic, and some aromatic leaves I found during my foraging trips into the pot and covered it with water and plenty of salt. It would continue to cook while they had their meeting.


    I stood in the back near the fires with my arms crossed, watching everyone gather in the mess hall, standing around in this impromptu town hall meeting. Bianca and Herman both shook their heads and then eyed me as if begging me not to do something stupid. The two captains took their place at the front while I sat back and watched the show from my seat in the back.


    ¡°Alright, calm down, everyone,¡± the captain spoke, trying to quiet the boisterous crowd, all shouting their questions as if he had any answers. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m glad you are all here. Is everyone here, by the way?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s noon, so people should be stopping by to get some food here, Captain,¡± Gladys spoke up.


    Gladys was my assistant, though it would be more fair to call her the main cook. Usually, I would drop off my kills for her and have her prepare it while I went and did other tasks. She was a decent enough worker but without a class, her butchery and prep work was slow. Today, Bianca gave her a break. It figured she¡¯d be close to the Captain because she was a flight attendant.


    ¡°Who¡¯s missing?¡± the captain asked.


    ¡°Alex and Sasha, I think they are hunting,¡± Bianca said.


    ¡°They¡¯re probably necking,¡± one of Marek¡¯s kids said, and the triplets erupted into snickering, which Marek silenced with an intense stare.


    ¡°Okay, so I guess we will start without them, and you can pass along what I¡¯m about to say,¡± Captain Alvarez---well, that was what was on his nametag at least---said in his thick Texan accent. He reminded me of a classic cowboy Sheriff. ¡°Listen, I know y¡¯all folks are scared out of your wits right now. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on before I got here, but I have to thank you all for keeping it together in these tough times.¡±


    ¡°Keeping it together? My son died!¡± Ruth said.


    ¡°I heard you, Ruth. I don¡¯t know what this dungeon is, but no one is going near it while I¡¯m here, you understand?¡± Captain Alvarez said. The captain adjusted his belt buckle and loosened his tie as a politician would preparing to talk to the ¡®common folk.¡¯ ¡°Now. My job as your captain in any emergency is to see that we get you all back to your homes safe and sound.¡±


    More clambering and murmurs came from the crowd, and Alvarez raised his hands to silence the crowd in a calming gesture.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been told y¡¯all have been building shelters and such, and I think that¡¯s a wonderful idea. We¡¯re going to keep doing that, but we also need to think about getting out of here.¡± The captain lifted his cap and wiped the sweat off his black matted hair. ¡°In S-O-P, after we have verified everyone is safe and we have food and shelter, which you folks have, we have to establish a signal back home.¡±


    As expected... that¡¯s not good.


    ¡°And how do we do that?¡± some old guy whose name I forgot yelled in the crowd.


    Good question, how do we do that, Captain?


    ¡°Given that no one has any phones or telecommunication devices, our best bet is to build a large signal fire. Given the capabilities of this... golem I¡¯ve been hearing about, we can build a strong signal fire and signal for help. Get off this island.¡±


    More clamoring and a feeling of hope returned to the crowd; there was genuine hope and smiles coming through to the adults. Ethan and Anika both looked unsure while Herman was shaking his head. Bianca stared at me pleadingly for support or to say something.


    ¡°This might not be an island,¡± I said flatly, cutting through the crowd¡¯s noise. A tension filled the crowd and the noisy speculative murmurings was replaced by silence. The crowd was sensing I would cause trouble.


    ¡°And who might you be, young man?¡± Captain Alvarez smiled and squinted his beady eyes in my direction.


    ¡°He¡¯s just the cook, Orion, don¡¯t listen to him,¡± some Karen said.


    ¡°How do you know that, Orion?¡± Captain Alvarez said, stroking his black mustache.


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I just think it¡¯s possible we might not be on an island,¡± I repeated.


    ¡°Okay, well, a deserted peninsula or some far-off coast, thank you,¡± Captain Alvarez nodded and continued working the crowd. ¡°Like I was saying, we have to establish a signal fire; we have to be visible, and then in the long term, we have to build a boat.¡±


    ¡°Sir... Captain...¡± Bianca said meekly, ¡°I don¡¯t think Slate knows how to build boats yet. Marek isn¡¯t a shipwright, and also, I¡¯m not sure we should waste resources building either of those things...¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Bianca, you have done an amazing job so far keeping these survivors alive. I cannot thank you enough. But my job here, darlin¡¯, is to get these people back to their homes,¡± Captain Alvarez said to the sound of agreement and delusional sentiment. Bianca shrunk in the crowd¡¯s favor of the captain.


    Between the two, one had years of experience being a leader, and the other was thrust into the job and was probably now feeling an overwhelming sense of imposter syndrome.


    ¡°Captain, someone has told you we are not on Earth, am I correct?¡± I spoke up again. Another hush of silence.


    ¡°That is correct,¡± Captain Alvarez said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to see the stars and moon for myself. But that¡¯s what all these fine folks have been telling me, sir.¡±


    ¡°So why would we make a signal fire as if we are on Earth, expecting help from people who are looking for us on Earth and not here on some distant, possibly alternate, planet?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It is S-O-P, my young friend.¡± Captain Alvarez explained that, to his credit, he did not sound the least bit condescending about it.


    ¡°What does the S in S-O-P stand for again?¡± I asked. I probably did sound condescending.


    ¡°Let¡¯s say that you are right. That we are on some faraway planet somewhere. It stands to reason that this planet we are on might support the same type of intelligent, sentient life who will come and help us. And if they have these magical powers all of you talk about, maybe there is someone there with the power to take us back home. It doesn¡¯t hurt to try to contact anyone.¡±


    ¡°There are other people on this planet. We just don¡¯t know if they share the same values as us or will kill us or pillage on sight,¡± I explained.


    ¡°Son, even if they wanted to take stuff from us, we have nothing but sticks and the clothes on our backs,¡± Captain Alvarez said.


    ¡°No,¡± I shook my head, frowning. ¡°We have people with valuable classes who can make work so much easier. We also have young women.¡±


    The crowd broke into panicked murmurs as they realized my implication of what outsiders with ill intent might do with young women, or any women for that matter.


    ¡°You can¡¯t mean... this is the 21st century; that stuff doesn¡¯t happen!¡± one Karen exclaimed.


    ¡°We might be in the Iron Age here. Even back on Earth it¡¯s not like exploitation of labor and ¡®that¡¯ stuff doesn¡¯t happen. I know their names and they are strong. Much stronger than us. At least their most powerful are.¡± Most of the people who hadn¡¯t gone into the dungeon or had classes all looked like I was high on drugs. I couldn¡¯t blame them.


    ¡°How do you know what¡¯s outside here?¡± Someone asked.


    ¡°The dungeon told me,¡± I said, and more disbelief came from some of the crowd while Captain Alvarez raised his eyebrows. At the word "dungeon," people either scoffed or got angry. The death of Bryden still lingered in the air.


    ¡°I can¡¯t take what this dungeon of yours has told you in good faith, my young friend. I understand there are magics at work here, but I¡¯m only fulfilling my duties as the Captain of the plane.¡± Captain Alvarez¡¯s warm voice made you feel at ease, but it also held authority and command in it.


    Despite wanting to hate the Captain, I just couldn¡¯t. He was being thrown video game and fantasy words and ideas at him by some dumb kid, but despite that, he listened attentively and didn¡¯t outright dismiss it. The captain still stuck to his guns and operated what he felt was his duty, I knew that.


    He¡¯s a good man, but he might end up killing all of us.


    ¡°So what can the rest of us do in the meantime?¡± Roza asked the captain, holding her daughter closely.


    ¡°Bianca and the builders will work on the construction of a signal fire tower, which me and first officer Kestrel here will oversee and support. Other than that, as far as I¡¯m concerned, our top priority besides finding a way to get back home is food and water. We have plenty of shelter right now, so I want every able body fishing, gathering, boiling water, or hunting.¡±


    When talks about working hard and pulling together came back to the forefront, it was clear some of the crowd didn¡¯t like that one bit. The same old grumblings echoed throughout the mass.


    Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.


    My feelings were mixed. On the one hand, we had this authority figure who could come in and convince people to work on the basics. How long that would last, I had no idea. On the other hand, that same figure might get us all killed. Still, he might have been right. I thought eventually we would have to reach out to others in this world to trade, but I didn¡¯t know if we were ready yet.


    By late evening, the old council had gathered by Shelter Two to discuss our plans.


    Besides the captain and his copilot, one more person had joined the community by day¡¯s end by the name of Sophie Park. I won''t tell you how I, someone notorious for forgetting people¡¯s names, knew her entire name, other than the fact that when she came into the camp, the men noticed.


    It was weird seeing new arrivals come in, completely fresh. After being here a while, you get dirty, you get dingy, you get in the muck, you lose your makeup and your hair gels, and you get primal. Seeing someone like that suddenly appear throws you off, makes you feel longing for the old world, and also miserable for being so far beyond civilized life when they were but a day away from it.


    Bianca somehow felt more at ease, despite losing her seat of power, while socializing with Sophie. I think the weight of being in charge got to her. It was mostly my fault, of course, I could have made her job a lot easier in retrospect.


    Bianca and Sophie looked like best friends, talking up a storm on their way to us, and all in all, Sophie didn¡¯t look like someone who had been told she was being thrust into a different planet to fend for herself. Maybe it was because the Captain was here or because she and Bianca had gotten on well together. They parted each other with a small wave, as Sophie headed towards Shelter Three and Bianca towards the four other old council members gathered here.


    ¡°Someone had to know it was coming,¡± Anika said, bringing the first issue on the agenda. ¡°The Captain.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s that, Bianca?¡± I asked about her new friend, my eyebrows raised. I knew who it was, but wanted Bianca to introduce us.


    ¡°Don¡¯t EVEN think about it,¡± Bianca snapped. ¡°Also, what the heck? I thought you would put up a bigger fight with the Captain. You don¡¯t seem to hold back when I was in charge.¡±


    ¡°Is that Sophie Park?¡± Ethan asked with fanboy excitement. ¡°She was sitting in first class, wasn¡¯t she? Oh my god, I can¡¯t believe she¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°You know her too, Ethan? You dog, you,¡± I prodded Ethan in the side of the chest with my fingers, making him giggle.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for joking or whatever boy crap you have going on. What are we going to do?¡± Bianca asked, her fists clenched and teeth bared.


    Herman shrugged and spoke up first. ¡°Sabotage that signal fire.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to get Slate to do whatever he can to not work, but the golem is a machine. Why did he have to be so useful all of a sudden?¡± Bianca sounded exasperated.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were this power-hungry, Bianca,¡± I said, slightly impressed by her willingness to get back into control.


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a crap if he¡¯s in charge, but he can¡¯t build that signal.¡± Bianca looked extra irritable today if that was at all possible.


    ¡°He just came here.¡± Anika frowned. ¡°Hopefully, he has seen the moon by now and realized we aren¡¯t on Earth anymore.¡±


    ¡°The moon is almost out by now. You can barely see it. It¡¯s been some time since the waxing crescent cycle, so as more people come in, it¡¯ll be harder to convince them,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting, same moon cycle as ours perhaps,¡± Anika observed, nodding to herself. ¡°Maybe we are in an alternate Earth.¡±


    ¡°Guys, please, what about the Captain and the signal fire?¡± Bianca pleaded.


    ¡°How far along is it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It just got started. The base will be mud bricks, and Slate is taking a real long time getting bricks to the shore, thank God,¡± Bianca said. ¡°But it¡¯ll probably be done in a few days.¡±


    ¡°Did you guys ever think maybe the captain is right?¡± Ethan suggested.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°Orion already told us there are other people on this planet. Maybe they will help us. We always assume the worst about people, but that¡¯s just a human trait,¡± Ethan said. ¡°Maybe one of them has a teleporter class like we do. Who knows?¡±


    ¡°And if they are human?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Most people I¡¯ve met are kind. Humans get a bad rap, but if the average person sees someone in trouble, I think most people will help,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°You are way too optimistic,¡± I responded, shaking my head at his perceived naivety. Though it could be me just being cynical.


    ¡°If it gets built, it will only attract boats or planes,¡± Herman said contemplatively. ¡°If they have planes, maybe they have an advanced civilization. If they only have boats, then maybe... they¡¯ll be traders or fishers or... even worse, pirates.¡±


    At the word "pirates," we all feared the worst.


    ¡°We have to be put back in charge and we have to stop it,¡± Bianca paced. ¡°Rye, can¡¯t you do something? You were all talk about threatening people, can¡¯t you, you know...¡±


    ¡°Geez, one day without power... I am honestly impressed.¡± I smiled, but Bianca was not amused in the slightest.


    ¡°Just tell Slate not to build it,¡± Anika said.


    ¡°Oh god, why didn¡¯t I think of that? If Slate doesn¡¯t, then Marek will just do it, and he¡¯ll assign more and more people away from daily tasks to make bricks and build his stupid signal fire. It¡¯s backbreaking work that will drive people nuts. The Captain is already getting people to build wheelbarrows to haul bricks to the build site,¡± Bianca cried.


    ¡°We needed wheelbarrows, so maybe he¡¯s not so bad,¡± I said nodding. ¡°Besides... the whole maybe getting us killed thing.¡±


    ¡°You guys are thinking the worst. The captain is just doing what he thinks is best... I can¡¯t support a coup,¡± Ethan said.


    ¡°Orion, would Alex support you?¡± Herman asked, implying he wanted to take action.


    ¡°No. Alex thinks of himself as a hero, so I doubt he will stand by and let me do anything,¡± I said, inspecting my knives. ¡°That said, he might not agree with Captain¡¯s decision to stay away from the dungeon, but he won¡¯t fear any threat from the outside we might get from the signal fire.¡±


    ¡°What does Marek think? Is he on our side?¡± Bianca asked.


    Ethan shook his head. ¡°Marek and Roza both want their kids to get back home. They are hoping on the slim chance that the captain will somehow get their kids back to Earth.¡±


    ¡°We just have to continue and prepare for the worst. I¡¯ll make more hemostatics and herbs for healing while Ethan can continue making more thread and bandages,¡± Anika said.


    ¡°There is a third option besides a coup or just compliance,¡± I suggested.


    ¡°What?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°We can just leave. Go across the river and go north. Us five plus Cass. We can start over from scratch.¡±


    Bianca took my suggestion and mulled it over, then shook her head.


    ¡°Rye, you always tell me to think about the future and the long-term goals of this place. We need everyone here. Sure, we can build a small cozy off-the-grid cottage somewhere and have a decent life. Maybe we¡¯ll get a watermill going and some crops, but... we¡¯ll never build a community with just six people.¡± Bianca brushed her auburn hair off her face and said with a determined smile, ¡°I want to build a place that lasts, that the future children of this village will be happy living in.¡±


    I sighed and nodded. ¡°Fine, then open the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°What? But the captain said---¡± Ethan started, and Bianca looked annoyed at my suggestion.


    ¡°Just open it for three hours each day near dawn. I¡¯ll go in by myself, loot weapons on the first floor, and stockpile them somewhere safe. If something happens, at least some of us can be armed. I¡¯ll also be able to level up in combat.¡±


    ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll stay safe,¡± Bianca said, her expression conveying that this was my last chance to prove myself and the last matter when it came to the dungeon.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay safe, Bianca. I don¡¯t want to miss the faces of the newbies when you are back in charge.¡±

 Chapter 23

    Chapter 23


    Sophie


    Day 2 of Landing, Day 13 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill: 35


    Started from the top, now I¡¯m here.


    One of the flight attendant¡¯s elbows, as evident by her black uniform sleeve, came dangerously close to where I lay in Shelter Three, giving my face a light nudge.


    Not an ideal situation, Sophie.


    Not to mention, I¡¯m stuck in this shelter with what I can only assume is the bottom rung of this so-called community of castaways. Despite my brown-nosing and casual flirting with the leader, Queen B as she is called, she still put me away with the useless newcomers. I didn¡¯t think Bianca was the judgmental type, probably one of those who underestimated me because of my profile in the real world, and yet here I lay in the low caste among the commoners and not in the same shelter as the ones in charge.


    Having arrived here yesterday, alongside some notable new arrivals like the Captain and Copilot, and being informed of the situation, I had two options. Kill myself or make the best of this situation. I wasn¡¯t going to kill myself.


    Aaliyah, a stewardess, had picked me up from where I first found myself on the beach and filled me in on the details so far. Magic cards, yada yada yada. New planet, yada yada yada; and then the power structure of this community. Now that was something I was interested in. The ones in power, Bianca and her council, were all useful because they had something called Classes. I wanted a class. I wanted class. If classes made you important here, I wanted it.


    Queen B herself was a Founder. I¡¯m not sure what that class means. From what I gathered, it was probably the most powerful class in the community. She controlled Slate, a golem who pretty much built most of the roofs over our heads. Regardless of her merits, when you control the housing and construction, you control the community, and I wanted to move quickly on her. She was the key to rising here, and I wanted to get in her good graces.


    Why? It¡¯s simple. I wanted my own house. I wanted to move out of this shelter immediately. I wanted people to respect me. I wanted a seat on that council. For that, I would need a class.


    Was it that simple? Just get a class?


    Surprisingly, yes. It was.


    I spent last night gathering information, and all the classes made sense. Ethan was a med student. He got a Doctor class. Anika was a chemistry student. She got an Herbalist class. What I learned through my investigation was that each one had gotten their class by doing something they liked to do and doing it early. In fact, the council was trying to encourage certain classes; they would make everyone try farming, brewing, carpentry, or leatherworking just to see if they could make classes appear. I didn¡¯t think that was a good idea. The best jobs are the ones you actually want to do, and I knew the best job for me.


    Now there was just one teensy little problem: The new management.


    Aaliyah ushered me to the meeting yesterday, and I caught the little tense discussion between the council¡¯s enforcer and the two pilots about the future plans for the village. Even though many of the newcomers were siding with the captain, I knew in the end, that the ones with the ability would be the ones to take control.


    Problems present opportunities. When the sides are picked, I will choose the winning side, and that is the one with the magical powers.


    The morning was leftover turtle soup and/or roast fish. They served it with a side of saut¨¦ed foraged greens and wild barley porridge. Orion, one of the other major players of the council, was trying to play it coy when he acknowledged me at the mess hall, and I gave him a wink to tease a reaction out of him. Despite how cool he tried to play it, he was still a boy in the end.


    While I ate, the ex-leader, Queen B herself, handed me a bar of soap wrapped in a banana leaf, a hand-sized cream-colored brick so down-to-earth and natural looking it looked like something you would pay nearly twenty dollars for at an artisanal hippy store. It was my ration for a few days. A whole bar of soap, not only to wash my body with but also to wash my clothes with. After questioning her, she revealed that the Captain had instructed the entire crew to focus on building a signal fire and gathering provisions, which resulted in a temporary pause in soap production for a few days.


    Focus on the essentials, but people needed more than essentials, didn¡¯t they?


    That was a problem, so that meant it was an opportunity.


    More friendly banter with the Founder, complimenting her beautiful hair and skin, laughing at her corny jokes, and then slipping in a question about who handles soap production led me to the herbalist, Anika.


    Now, Anika, there was a girl who was all business. Where she spent her time, she looked like she had an entire botanical garden going. The captain had given her orders to stop picking daisies and start picking fruits and berries, which didn¡¯t please her. Some empathy, kind words of support to show her I was on her side, and then maybe slip in a question about how soap was made, and soon I was headed to one of the ¡°free¡± workers available.


    ¡°You want to give me half a bar of soap to make lye?¡± Tiffany asked, one of the older ladies who seemed constantly free, resting at the fire and chatting. ¡°How the hell do I make that?¡±


    ¡°Just burn some wood. They have a kit for it over there. Get the ash from the burnt wood, put it in that pot, and pour some water over it,¡± I said.


    ¡°You ain¡¯t fooling? We make this for you and you give us each half of your ration of soap?¡± Sasha, another slacker, asked, suspicious.


    ¡°I¡¯m new here; I don¡¯t need it as much as you guys,¡± I smiled and then wrinkled my nose for good measure. When they saw that, they wanted to exploit me out of my only bar of soap, as if to say, ¡°Let¡¯s see how long you will look down on our smell when you have no more soap.¡±


    Now the easy part is over; the next part would take a lot more work. The groundwork for it was already in place, but I had no bargaining chips in my possession. My bar of soap was the only thing I had in this world. You might be asking, why didn¡¯t I make lye myself? If I wanted the class I wanted, I would need to make this deal, and besides, I heard that lye is caustic. Why get my hands dirty when I can make others do it for me?


    The intense, dour-looking cook had come back from one of his errands, sweaty and in his shelter checking on his lidded pots. There was food in it from what I gathered, but my prize was his lard.


    Now, to say I had no bargaining chips left was not to be fully truthful. I had one, a big one, and I was going to use it.


    ¡°Orion~¡± I said sweetly, giving him my killer smile. The boy flushed when he saw me approach. The idea of being alone with me in the shelter probably sent his imagination into overdrive.


    Aww my sweet boy. All alone here for weeks with no computer to relieve some stress. You must be on edge, right? Better flutter my eyelids and lick my lips. Yes. That¡¯s right. Stare at my wet lips and imagine.


    ¡°Do you have any fat on you? Like animal fat. Can you be a good neighbor and lend me some?¡± I asked in my most seductive voice.


    When I winked, I was surprised when his mouth turned into a line, his expression hardening. ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re running out. I¡¯m only down to stuff I need to cook.¡±


    ¡°Oh shoot,¡± I said, bumping my head in a diabolically cute manner, ¡°Isn¡¯t there any way you can get me more? Pretty please? With a cherry on top~¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to make soap, huh?¡± Orion raised his eyebrow. ¡°Didn¡¯t Bianca just give you your ration?¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m really self-conscious about being extra clean. I¡¯ll make it up to you, Orion~¡± I chirped, twirling my fingers on my shoulders affectionately.


    Still a boy, after all. By the way he reacted, he must have been one of my fans in the real world. Oh, he does try to play it off, but his face color doesn¡¯t lie.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I was planning to kill some more birds today and catch crabs, and they don¡¯t produce that much fat.¡± Orion looked around in his pots to check his inventory of food supplies. The cook then sharpened some knives quickly against a block of stone and holstered them on his apron. ¡°Sorry, I got to run, lots to do.¡±


    ¡°Wait-¡± But before I could say more, the boy was gone.


    Sheesh, now what?


    When I returned to the two ladies, they had made the lye. It was in a wide clay pot, and I dipped a feather in it to see if it was strong enough, like Anika instructed me. I paid them for the lye, opened the leaf with my soap inside, split half of it, and gave one half to each. They both looked like they suckered me into the deal of the century, taking their halves and combining the half bar into their leaf ration of soap.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Not a great deal to be holding a bowl of lye with no value as of yet, but I could still make this work somehow. Just as I contemplated my next move, my world shifted.


    It was happening. I was getting my class.


    <hr>


    It was as they described, a black-robed stranger at a tarot reading table surrounding a black void cosmos. The dealer hid his face in shadows, but his skeletal hands had gold rings on them. I sat on a chair that magically appeared, which was made of gold and inlaid with jewels. Around me, nothing but a black void and cosmos that stretched infinitely into the distance. It made me dizzy, so I gripped tightly onto my gold throne.


    ¡°Why hello there,¡± I greeted the dealer, trying to hide the fear that was bubbling up. When you are in a meeting with powerful people, you have to have steady hands. ¡°I¡¯ve heard so much about you.¡±


    There would be no greeting back, only the playing as he reached into his palms and drew a card. It lay flat before me, revealing a card with the art of a man holding a scale with gold coins weighted to one side. ¡°Merchant,¡± it read with the letter B across the top center.


    Three more cards followed without any warning and presented face down before me.


    ¡°The cards must be played,¡± the specter bellowed.


    ¡°Do most people pick middle?¡± I asked the card dealer to no response.


    I studied the cards carefully and made my decision, picking up the left card. The art depicted a tiny merchant wagon on top of a giant hand. It read:


    Portable Wagon - S


    You own a wagon that is your private space. The wagon¡¯s interior space increases as you level and earn more wealth. Only you can access the space and this item is soul-bound.


    That sounded good. Really good.


    I clapped in excitement and got off my seat to start celebrating. My fear turned to triumph. Before I could do more, like hug the stranger, the voice from the void spoke again.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder.¡±


    And with that, I was back in the real world.


    <hr>


    A red bird was being plucked by Orion as he methodically separated the feathers, working like a machine. He chopped off a wing and generously seasoned it with an amount of salt that would make the Dead Sea seem bland. Then he placed it away from the fire on a stack of rocks that were not close enough to directly cook it. The cook would occasionally glance up at Alex, who looked like a bargain bin Ryan Gosling, busy chatting with Aaliyah, one of the pretty young stewardesses, at one of the mess hall''s picnic tables.


    Now there was something I could exploit.


    ¡°Heya, so about getting me some of that animal fat, Orion,¡± I came next to him, standing close enough to make the boy uncomfortable. He pretended to act cool and proceeded to put another wing on the stones.


    ¡°I have a lot to do right now, Captain¡¯s orders and all,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°Two chicken wings? You can¡¯t expect me to believe that will feed an entire community. Given your cooking method and the pots you store them in, I would say you are saving up food like a chipmunk for yourself,¡± I commented.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Orion ignored the observation and looked behind me at my new little gift from the card dealer. ¡°Where did you get that thing?¡±


    The thing, as he called it, was my new portable merchant wagon. It was a wooden box on wheels, which I could pull along with a small wooden handle attached to poles like a retractable handle. The whole thing looked like cottage-core carry-on luggage, fitting the theme of our unfortunate mess, what with the plane and all. Orion bent down and examined it, running his hands through the mahogany panels.


    ¡°It looks like a... wagon,¡± Orion¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You made this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what. You lend me some of your fat and I¡¯ll show you its secrets inside. I¡¯ll even let you use it from time to time.¡± I twirled my hair and then brushed his arm, which made him redden.


    ¡°I only have my reserves, and I need it for cooking,¡± Orion said. ¡°It¡¯s just a pain to carry all these hogs back to camp to render the fat.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal. You hunt them down and I¡¯ll carry them back, okay? After you render all the fat for me, I¡¯ll give you a quarter of it and keep the rest to myself.¡±


    I knew somewhere deep inside my Barter skill was being activated. There was no need to show Orion my cards, however.


    ¡°A quarter? I¡¯m doing most of the work here. Shouldn¡¯t you take a quarter?¡± Orion scoffed, raising his eyebrows.


    ¡°Oh... that¡¯s too bad. I guess I¡¯ll have to ask Alex to help me out...¡± I said bashfully.


    ¡°Half. And I don¡¯t mean just the fat either. Half the soap you¡¯re going to make,¡± Orion offered quickly.


    I shrugged and smiled. ¡°Fine, but I¡¯ll give you the lye, and you make it into bricks for me, okay? Why do you need half of it, anyway?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I¡¯m giving it to Bianca to distribute for rations,¡± Orion said, and his knife came down to separate a leg from the bird¡¯s carcass.


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re never going to get them to work if you just hand out free stuff,¡± I sighed. ¡°Orion, you produce so much value. Hoard it yourself, like you do with that food you keep. Trade it to encourage people to work for it. If you need string, trade them soap. If you need salt, trade them soap. We¡¯re Americans, Rye. Learn what motivates us.¡±


    ¡°The food I produce is to keep myself safe. I need to give the soap to Bianca, because it will increase her authority. If she¡¯s the one giving out handouts, then she¡¯s the one people will see as the leader,¡± Orion said.


    The lack of ambition was a huge turnoff. Oh, Orion, you silly goose.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I tsked loudly. There was no use in trying to persuade this simpleton. ¡°Waste your wealth, see if I care. Let¡¯s get a move on, shall we?¡±


    After placing his chicken legs on the stones and leaving all of his meat to smoke, Orion walked back to his shelter to pick up some equipment, including a rope he draped around his shoulders and some knives he holstered to his apron. I commented that it was strange he would bring an apron on a plane, and he didn¡¯t expand on it.


    He instructed me to follow him through the forest and past the cave they called the dungeon. Now, this kind of walking would not do, especially while lugging this portable wagon. Between my sweat and the bugs out here, I would have to get a horse or maybe a few helpers to carry me from place to place. To his credit, Orion saw me struggling with the trek and offered to carry my portable wagon.


    We came to a clearing in the forest, a wide meadow of yellow flowers and red berry bushes where a sounder of boars was grazing. Unlike normal boars, these had gray fur covering their bodies and long ivory tusks that made them look like sheep crossbred with tiny elephants. There must have been twenty in total. Orion pulled a throwing knife from his apron, and then a card appeared in front of it. A whistle tore through the air as the blade erupted from his hands and smacked into the head of a boar nearby. Lack of ambition was a turn-off, but that kind of power was intriguing. The body of the boar didn¡¯t catch up to the head as it trembled and stumbled around before finally collapsing. Another knife came up, and Orion waited a few minutes before a card appeared again and soon after, yet another boar fell victim to the same bolt that penetrated its skull. Upon seeing their fellow boars die, the rest of the sounder scattered away.


    ¡°Just two?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I can only carry one back at a time,¡± Orion shrugged. ¡°And you said you would carry the other.¡±


    ¡°Actually... I said I would carry them all back,¡± I smiled at him knowingly, and Orion¡¯s confusion was plain.


    I placed the handle of the portable cart down and then pulled out my Expand card, throwing it on the wooden box frame. We both watched as the box expanded with wooden gears turning, panels unfolding, and a wood wagon the size of a small bus stop came into being. A sliding wooden door was on the side of the wagon, and display shelves were on the other side, right above the six wooden wheels, reinforced with black iron. An impressed Orion examined the cart, trying to slide open the door but finding it unable to move under his touch. When I reached for the door, it easily slid open to reveal a closet-size wooden room with my bowl of lye that I had previously stored there sitting on a shelf.


    ¡°Incredible. You have an amazing skill, almost as good as Bianca¡¯s,¡± Orion stared in envy, his eyes wide with wonder and possibilities. ¡°You¡¯re a merchant class?¡±


    ¡°Bingo.¡± I showed him my Merchant card, expecting a better reaction, but he just read it analytically and nodded to himself as if it made sense.


    ¡°Toss the hogs in the wagon; we can probably fit four,¡± I said. ¡°The space isn¡¯t that big yet since I¡¯m low-level.¡±


    When Orion tried putting them into my storage, a blue barrier blocked it. With his help, I managed to load the carcasses into the wagon, the blue barrier letting them pass now that I was involved. Two more boars fell to Orion; he looked exhausted as he dragged them over, and we both piled them on top of the other two corpses. I noticed the four boars were all males and mature beasts at that.


    Throughout all this, a dark blue raven watched Orion as he used his knife to remove the eyes from the boars to feed the bird.


    ¡°Hopefully, our piglets will grow soon, so we don¡¯t have to rely on this method. It¡¯s a lot of work.¡± Orion huffed with beads of sweat dripping down his face.


    ¡°But then we will lose our monopoly on boar fat,¡± I frowned with my hands on my hips.


    ¡°Our monopoly?¡± Orion raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°You¡¯re a man who can get stuff. I¡¯m someone who can sell it. Orion, sooner or later a monetary system will come to this place. Don¡¯t you want to be on top of it?¡± I had my hand on his arm, caressing it gently with a knowing smile. ¡°Don¡¯t you think we make good partners?¡±


    Ah, that boy sure tries to act cool, but in the end, he¡¯s still a boy.


    ¡°Can you fetch me something that will make these soaps smell nice?¡± I asked. ¡°Some of those flowers might be good; they smell fragrant.¡±


    ¡°We usually use those green citrus fruits back at camp for that smell,¡± Orion suggested.


    ¡°We can use those too, but we have to diversify. Offer our customers many varieties: citrus soaps, flower soaps, pine soaps, and all kinds of different soaps. It creates scarcity and choice.¡± I nodded to myself and threw my Collapse card onto the wagon after we secured our load.


    ¡°Seems like a whole lot of work for no reason,¡± Orion sighed and dragged the portable wagon alongside me.


    ¡°Good thing we have all the time in the world, don¡¯t we?¡± I came next to him, taking his arm, which startled him. ¡°...partner~¡±


    Ah, what an innocent look. This boy is as green as the pastures those boars grazed in.


    Orion, my sweet, you are going to help make me the richest person in this world.

 Chapter 24

    Chapter 24


    Orion


    Day 14 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill: 38


    The combat skills I was grinding became more difficult to advance. I had two rats on the first floor of the dungeon, and I ended them both with my long knife in melee range. I needed to improve my close-combat skills, so I didn''t use my throwing knife before dispatching the final rat. I let it charge in close, sidestepped its attack, and then swiftly moved in for the kill. The risk was unnecessary, but I had grown confident in my understanding of the rats'' movements.


    Currently, my combat-related skills are as follows:


    Throwing Weapons: 4


    Path of the Dagger: 2


    Stealth: 2


    Firewielder: 2


    The way I figured the system worked was that it didn¡¯t allow you to spread yourself too thin. You had to specialize and take on greater tasks or beat stronger enemies. To level up, I had to go further down the dungeon and face tougher foes. Beating these rats just wouldn''t cut it.


    This logic applied to all my skills. For instance, my Cook class stalled at level 7 because cooking the same stew or fried pork every day wasn''t enough to make me a better cook. I needed better ingredients and cooking implements. I aimed to reach level 10 in my Cook class and level 3 in all my combat skills before the signal fire was lit, in case the worst-case scenario happened. However, my time in the dungeon and outside of it was running out.


    The last loot chest on floor one gave me two coins, bringing my total to 28, having collected 6 from yesterday¡¯s run. I wanted to save up at least forty before going back down to see the Jester again. The previous dungeon loot included a D-grade leather boot which I now equipped. After sweeping through the first floor, I dragged two weapons, a copper axe, and a copper mace, back to the surface and hid them in a log covered with foliage. I had told Sophie about the location of my weapon stash and she would use her portable wagon to store them in the event an attack happened.


    My days usually started with a quick two-hour dungeon run, stashing weapons, and then rounding up animals. On my way back to camp, I spotted a stray boar and quickly took it down with my Deadly Shot. Constantly scanning the forest for food had become second nature. At camp, breaking down the boar was a clinical process for me: hooves for glue, belly and fat for rendering, gut for string, hide for leather, stomach for storage bags, fur for spinning, sinew for string, tusks, and bones for tools, dice, and utensils, and meat for stew.


    Now that I had an ally in Sophie, I could speed up this process with her cart. She treated it like a commodity, but her ideas about motivating people to work were interesting, and she might be right. Today, she spent most of her time with Bianca and Anika. It was obvious she wanted in on whatever power we held, but the Captain held the power for now.


    While preparing the daily boar stew, Captain Alvarez and his copilot, Kestrel, approached my workstation with a look of ''taking care of business''. Several other men formed an ¡®intimidating¡¯ entourage, including Marek¡¯s assistant to the left, Miguel¡ªa broad-shouldered Hispanic man in his thirties with a long black beard¡ªand some rich old guy in a stained business suit to the right of the two pilots. A crowd gathered for the impending showdown.


    ¡°Good morning, Orion. You¡¯ve been busy as usual.¡± Captain Alvarez brushed his fingers through his mustache and frowned.


    ¡°Mornin'' Captain. Just focused on getting food as per your orders, sir.¡± I smiled faintly, putting on my best behavior. ¡°Anything I can help you with today?¡±


    ¡°We finished the signal fire yesterday,¡± the Captain said his arms crossed.


    ¡°Oh, congratulations,¡± I said, smiling wryly. ¡°Any messages from Earth yet?¡±


    The Captain laughed softly, a laugh that reminded me of a cop just right before he was going to arrest some idiot. More people gathered around the mess hall. Bianca, Ethan, and Anika looked worried. Sophie had a huge grin on her face. Herman was probably working. Cass looked curious.


    ¡°Someone dumped a whole lot of wet sand on the fire last night. It¡¯s gonna take a while to get it back up. You wouldn¡¯t know anything about that, would you?¡± the Captain asked, his face now void of any of his usual mirth.


    ¡°Who would do such a thing?¡± I wondered dumbly. ¡°I hang around here a lot, so if I hear anything, I¡¯ll let you know.¡±


    As I went back to work, the copilot, Kestrel, gritted his yellowed teeth and wanted to step forward to smack me, but the Captain held the lanky copilot back.


    ¡°Larry here was in charge of the first watch of the signal fire last night. He told me there was no way anyone could get by without his knowledge. Now it comes to my attention that you were missing from your shelter last night. It also comes to my attention that you have a special ability that lets you sneak around undetected. Can you explain any of this, son?¡± Captain Alvarez asked.


    ¡°Knowing Larry, he probably slept on the job. No offense, Larry,¡± I laughed softly and chucked some wild arrowroot into the pot.


    ¡°I was there fella. No way anyone was getting past my watch without me noticing. The light went out, and when I investigated, nobody was around,¡± Larry said sternly.


    ¡°Captain, there¡¯s no way Orion could have done it. He was with me last night,¡± Sophie smiled suggestively, providing me with an alibi.


    There was a chorus of ¡°oohs¡± from the younger crowd, including my brother and the triplets.


    ¡°Sophie, I questioned everyone. The only person unaccounted for last night was this cook. In fact, he was missing early this morning as well. I know you¡¯re trying to stand up for your friend, but stay out of it,¡± Kestrel spoke up with a harsh look toward Sophie, who wilted under his steel gaze.


    ¡°Son, this is serious. We know you have issues with the signal, but people want to go home to their families or at least contact civilization. If you do this one more time, we¡¯ll have to find a way to detain you... at least at night,¡± Captain Alvarez said.


    ¡°That¡¯s a serious accusation without evidence, Captain,¡± I said, not looking up from my work. ¡°I thought we were all about standard procedure and doing the right thing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just warning you, that¡¯s all. We¡¯ll double the watch over it thanks to whoever did this. One less man on food. It¡¯s a terrible shame, but it¡¯s my job as captain of this plane.¡± Captain obviously knew bullshit when he saw it.


    With the mini-public trial over, everyone dispersed, some muttering their grievances about me. Bianca came over and whispered, ¡°Good job¡± before leaving to show some fresh faces around the camp, while Ethan asked if I was okay. Sophie was chatting with Anika and Roza about something to do with toiletries and cottonlike fibers from a bush plant they wanted Roza to spin into female products.


    When Roza had time, she smiled and held out a flax messenger bag with dark brown leather straps. Her three children and Cass were eating roast fish at one of the mess hall¡¯s picnic tables nearby. Cass seemed to have gotten more comfortable hanging around the other children.


    ¡°Roza... I can¡¯t,¡± I said when it looked like she was giving the bag to me as a gift.


    Simple Bag of Freshness - D


    Food stored in here spoils 20% slower


    ¡°I don¡¯t forget how you saved my children, Orion. Marek and I owe you. We know how much you do around here, and I wanted you to have this as a sign of our gratitude.¡± Roza pushed the bag up to my chest, not giving me a chance to refuse.


    I held it up before me. Something stuck in my throat. ¡°I thought you guys were on the Captain¡¯s side on all this...¡±


    ¡°We want to go home, for our children. If there¡¯s a remote chance we can, we have to try it. I am so sorry,¡± Roza explained, her pale regretful face turned toward the ground in some shame. ¡°But... we know if the worst happens and you are right, you will protect us. You are our angel.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for this, Roza. It¡¯ll help a lot.¡± I handled the bag carefully examining the intricate stitching and the diagonal cross-weave pattern. It looked durable. The stray-colored bag smelled of smoke and hay.


    ¡°Marek says when he eventually builds your house, he¡¯ll give you two stories and a fireplace so you can cook. He remembers his debt to you.¡± Roza smiled watching me test my bag, placing a few rocks in it.


    ¡°Oh, just tell him it¡¯s alright.¡±


    ¡°No, he insists.¡± Roza patted me on the cheeks, caressing them softly in a motherly fashion. ¡°Take care, Orion. Relax a little now and then, yes? You look so tired.¡±


    "Thank you, Roza."


    And thus, I took her advice and then went to craft a fishing rod. I spent the rest of the day fishing with Herm. Then at night, after Cass had his lessons with Anika and Ethan, I spent it playing checkers with Cass before sleeping earlier than usual.


    The next morning, I got up extra early to have more time in the dungeon. I knew what Bianca would do was open the dungeon before she went to bed and then, when she would wake up, she would leave it for two hours to close it, just in case she overslept.


    Thankfully for me, yesterday had rained, so the signal fire was out thanks to Mother Nature. The air was chill, causing me to sneeze and feel light-headed. It still spittled as I put up my hood and ran through the mud in my newly looted leather boots and Hide of the Muskrat buff, thanks to a piece of salted muskrat I had stored. Roza¡¯s backpack contained food goodies I prepared wrapped in leaves, which I would use for the dungeon.


    There was one problem that I faced. Before I entered the dungeon, I felt someone following me.


    So it looks like someone else has the Tracking skill as well. That or they noticed the footprints I made in the raining mud.


    Alex¡¯s golden hair clung to his forehead, soaked through from the morning rain, as he made his way past the trees towards the clearing with the tree stump in front of the dungeon cave. He quickly noticed the torches on the dungeon door were lit, signaling that the dungeon was open, and a smile spread across his face.


    ¡°Oh, you hypocrite. You¡¯ve been diving without me?¡± Alex had his hands behind the back of his head, gleefully knowing he had one over on me.


    ¡°You usually don¡¯t wake up this early. Off to do some work?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not as stupid as you think I am, Rion. I knew you would be back the minute they announced the signal fire.¡±


    ¡°So you know what¡¯s going to come... Why are you so happy?¡± I had the urge to reach for my knife, but stayed my hand.


    ¡°Duh. We haven¡¯t run into real enemies yet. The dungeon doesn¡¯t count. Do you notice how this place doesn¡¯t have any monsters besides boars and cutesy Bambi stuff? We are bound to run into them sooner or later. The monsters.¡± Alex''s eyes glinted when he mentioned the word "monsters" as if he was looking forward to it.


    ¡°And you think you can take them all?¡± It crossed my mind. Could he possibly do that?


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. But I know if we go further into the dungeon together, we¡¯ll both be strong enough to take it. I made a mistake bringing those newbies, but that¡¯s because you kept believing your Earthly instincts, like those other idiots out there who are going to get us killed.¡±


    Alex examined the dungeon information. After seeing the leaderboard, his face hardened, and he spoke again.


    ¡°But now you see I was right, don¡¯t you? The only way to save us is to get stronger in the dungeon.¡± Alex smiled as he drew his sword out. My knife remained in its holster as he pushed past me and entered the dungeon, with me trailing behind.


    <hr>


    The first level went as expected; we cleared it thirty minutes faster than I usually do by myself. I would collect the starter copper sword and copper knife that the chests gave, holstering the new knife and holding the copper sword in my weak hand. We moved methodically to the next level, the maze-like levels of open jail cells with the gremlins.


    My tracking skills came in handy, as I used them to avoid large groups of attackers. I summoned a Deadly Shot aimed at the back of the head of one gremlin near a dead end, Alex would charge after with a swing of his sword, decapitating another gremlin. Another dead end led to one stray gremlin cowering upon our approach. I cuffed Alex and said I would get it as I wanted to level up the Path of the Dagger to 3. A sense of pity came over me as I withdrew my new copper knife, the same as the old in design but newly edged, to finish the poor soul who was trembling, expelling his bladder into the corner cell. As I got into reach, the cowering act vanished, and the short green monster bore its fangs and claw and sprung forward. A straight jab with my knife tore past its ribcage through its heart, but not before the creature got the best of me with one of its claws, leaving a shallow cut across my forearm.


    Another cornered gremlin at a level further down, and I would Deadly Shot it in its neck. While it gripped its throat, I finished it with my long knife at a distance with a strike down its skull. With that, I had finally reached level 3 in Path of the Dagger.


    The three card choices it presented me upon leveling were:


    Parry - C


    Activate this card right before an enemy attack to block a melee attack with your dagger and leave your opponent stunned for a second


    Backstab - C


    Attacks on an enemy''s back deal more damage


    Bleeding Strike - C


    Attack leaves a bleed effect on your opponent, which causes healing effects to be halved for a short period


    The decision was tough, but I based it on wanting to stay alive rather than doing more damage. I chose Parry.


    We finally came to an impasse with five gremlins blocking a wooden door. Two hours had passed, and I suggested, ¡°We should head back. Bianca will close it.¡±


    ¡°Just one more hour,¡± Alex gritted his teeth. ¡°I can clear this. I don¡¯t want to be on just the second floor on the leaderboard. All this time and only floor 2. Bianca can see who¡¯s in the dungeon; she won¡¯t close it with us still in.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll close it forever once we get out, though,¡± I said.


    ¡°So we better make this run count!¡± Alex charged, and I sighed.


    A sweep of Alex¡¯s copper sword flashed through the air, severing the heads of two gremlins with brutal efficiency. I threw a knife that pierced through a gremlin''s head, emerging from the other side and clattering against the stone wall behind it. Alex let out a Holy Strike to split another gremlin in half, and I took one in the back with a thrust of my long knife as it retreated. I marveled at the destruction the Hero brought, piles of gremlin heads and body parts littered where he stood. He must have been at least level 5 in his class and level 3 in Path of the Sword at this point.


    Now came the hard part. The final boss level of the floor was beyond the wooden door that Alex smashed open with another Holy Strike. Beyond the door and down the stairway, three pathways led to different diverging hallways. I activated my Tracking ability and deduced by the footprints, what looked like a stampede of them, going into the door on the right this time. Alex and I ignored the other two paths that would probably lead to a chest, realizing we were running out of time.


    The last room was of gray stone steps that led downwards to a stone altar adorned with tiny skulls. It housed about 15 gremlins and a giant orc seated on a throne behind the altar. As we snuck in, I readied my Deadly Shot while Alex readied his Holy Strike. We would go after the orc first. A Deadly Shot launched from my hands and grazed the cheek of the orc. The orc had moved his head to the side at the very last second. An eerie smile crept on the orc¡¯s face. His newly regenerated eye, which I took out in a previous run, had a distinct burn mark around it. The promise of vengeance was in the look that he shot at me at the altar room¡¯s exit. A command was issued by the orc in a strange language and the gremlins charged us.


    ¡°Shit!¡± I cried and reached into my bag for my salted chicken wing and pork fat to generate my two Soul Food buffs.


    Boar Padding: 10% resistance against piercing and slashing attacks for 3 hours


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl: 10% increase in top sprinting speed for 1 hour


    Swarms of gremlins approached, but Alex and I held the choke point of the exit. I swung my newly looted sword wildly, using the reach to bat away the approaching gremlins as Alex scythed through the green creatures like so many blades of grass. I guarded Alex¡¯s back as he held the flood of gremlins that approached, cleaving through them every which way and finishing those with my knife in close. We kept retreating into the room with the four-pathway split. There, two gremlins were waiting for us, teeth bared. I sent a Deadly Shot into one of their hearts and sidestepped another to bury my long knife in an uppercut in the other one while Alex kept pushing back the flood of gremlins behind us from the altar room. We made our stand in the four corner rooms with the four pathways. I dug the throwing knife out of the chest of the gremlin who was still on the ground struggling before my boot smashed down on its face. Another Deadly Shot went out of me towards another gremlin from Alex¡¯s direction, which he followed with another Holy Strike on a different gremlin.


    The smiling orc leader flung two of his gremlins aside in the doorway, their bodies breaking like eggs against the stone walls. Alex was already out of breath as he charged towards the orc, who knocked him aside with a backhanded slap against Alex''s chest. When Alex hit the wall, his shoulder fell funny, and he gripped it wincing in extreme pain.


    The orc ignored the Hero, its eyes locked dead on me. I didn¡¯t think I would come this far today and forgot my rope. Though I doubted if he recognized me from the last instance, he would let me try the same trick twice. An arm came down in a hammer strike before me, which I quickly stepped back from. Trying to catch my breath and wait for my moment, I drew a card out of my palms. Another swinging arm came in, and I used my Parry skill to block it, my dagger repelling the attack. Once parried, the orc looked as if it crashed into a stone wall, dazed and confused.


    ¡°Alex! Holy Strike him now!¡± I shouted.


    A thunderous slice filled with brilliance tore into the orc, leaving a bloody red line across its back.


    A final Deadly Shot flew for the orc''s head, landing squarely in its nose. I finished the orc off with my copper long knife, plunging it into its heart. The three of us left standing in the room each fell in our own way. The orc dropped face-first to the ground, pools of black blood spreading where it lay. Alex leaned back against the wall, wincing in pain, while I collapsed on my butt, trying to catch my breath. My head felt light, chills ran through my body, and my vision began to blur as my eyelids grew heavy, but I forced myself to speak.


    ¡°We should get back,¡± I suggested breathlessly to Alex who was still gripping his shoulder. ¡°Have Ethan look at that dislocated shoulder.¡±


    ¡°No, I need to go further. We beat the boss of this area... I can finally get to the third floor.¡± Alex cried through his pain.


    Being tired and not wanting to waste time arguing with this stubborn dungeon-obsessed Hero, I helped him to his feet, and we collected the coins the dead dropped. It brought my total to 36 jester coins.


    When we came to the room with the Jester cat, Alex stared in awe at the new products and immediately purchased a Reversed Hourglass, fixing his shoulder and bringing him back to the same tip-top condition he was in before entering the dungeon. The guy seemed to have an infinite number of coins, and with his second purchase, he bought an Iron Sword of Reach. I collected his copper sword for the weapon storage.


    Alex spotted me 4 coins, and I purchased Knife¡¯s Edge which was previously locked. I re-examined the throwing knives on my apron and knick myself on one of their edges.


    I sighed as Alex, now invigorated by his renewed health, smiled and kept moving forward down the dungeon, choosing the stairway down.


    It took exactly one minute for us to decide to turn around. The previous room acted as a reprieve to this floor but wasn¡¯t a true floor. This was floor 3. In it, the swamplands were hard to wade through, the mud slowed a person''s movement down, and giant walking crocodiles patrolled huge stone guard towers with wooden doors, presumably one of them leading to the stairway down.


    After placing my looted copper weapons near the exit where I knew I would pick them up, we hid beside a shrub with amaranth, which I harvested into the bag Roza had made for me. I knew Alex was taking this seriously when he wanted to try the sneak-and-charge method on one of the lone crocodiles patrolling. A Deadly Shot came out of me, ricocheting off the crocodile¡¯s forehead, leaving a bloody red prick, and it let out a loud hiss that drew in its nearby allies.


    Crap, I need iron-throwing knives. It also didn''t help that I feel weak as a kitten right now.


    Alex tested his new iron sword against the hide of the crocodile with a wide swing, only to find it difficult. We were not strong enough to fight these yet. He decided against engaging the incoming bask reinforcing the lone croc. We bravely hightailed it out of there to fight another day, and back up the stairs, not before I grabbed the starter weapons I left at the exit.


    My body felt weak as we trekked back to the camp in the rain. Alex, who had previously needed help from me, returned the favor and came over to ask if I was alright. Being too prideful, I declined his offer of assistance and gritted my teeth as I hazily made my way back to the camp.


    When I came back after depositing the weapons, the rain had all but stopped. It was midday, and people, besides Slate, had stopped working and instead took refuge in their shelters. Clark, Herman¡¯s helper, had brought back a couple of fish, his body and clothes worse for wear as he left the fisher¡¯s haul by the mess hall for us cooks to prepare. Word came that one of the kilns had collapsed in the rain.


    My thoughts were to hunt for some food for dinner, but I stumbled over onto one of the mess tables, causing looks of concern from passersby. Ethan came to see me to patch up one of the cuts I had received from the dungeon. I told him that my head felt dizzy, and the Doctor threw a card at me in response.


    After drinking some tea Anika brewed for me, I broke into a cold sweat. My body felt feverish all over, and I had to be carried to my shelter. Someone covered me with one of the first muskrat hide blankets, and the smell of wet muskrat quickly overwhelmed me. Shivering, my teeth clacked together, and my vision faded to black as my body compelled me to unconsciousness.


    <hr>


    Rjakk-jakk


    Day 18 Lost at Sea


    No food. No water. Crew doesn¡¯t want to fish. No patience left in our crew.


    Voidblasted mercenary scum chasing us. Scum. Why they mind our business?


    No different, says Rjakk-jakk. Take coin to hunt. No different. Scum.


    ''For what?¡¯ says Rjakk-jakk?


    Protect fat merchants so the spoiled Queen can get more spices. May the Dealer take her.


    Captain growing paranoid. Had men flung out to sea for mutiny.


    ¡°For what?¡±, says Rjakk-jakk.


    We speak, we complain, but no mutiny. Only mutiny against the sea.


    Another day pass and no land. Drives men crazy.


    Captain says we should eat the prisoners if we don¡¯t want to starve.


    Some men get desperate enough to drink the seawater. They die quickly. They feed sharks soon after.


    Night comes.


    ¡°Light! Land! Land! Starboard!¡± shouts the lookout peering through glass.


    Yes. A light in the far distance. Not city, no. City many lights. This was single light. Maybe lone farm or small fishing village.


    Shouting from the Captain.


    "Get rowing you voidblasted brats!" says Captain.


    If lone light our crew can easily take, Rjakk-jakk thinks. If lone light there are people.


    Rjakk-jakk licks his lips.


    Excitement.

 Chapter 25

    Chapter 25


    Astrid


    Day 2 of Landing, Day 14 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill: 38


    You really have to see it to believe it. When you arrive here, they tell you, and you won¡¯t believe it. They show you, and you don¡¯t believe it. They perform all these magical things in front of you that can¡¯t be explained any other way, but you remain skeptical.


    I only really believed it when I sat in front of the dark stranger and he gave me my class card: Animal Keeper.


    It all started when Bianca left me with the care of the three piglets in the animal pens.


    The three piglets were attached to a rope tied to a stake. Why would you need to do this when they are already enclosed in a pen? A careless man named Orion captured them, chained them here, and just left them to starve. I would need to have a little chat with this animal abuser.


    I would be in charge of sweeping their poop for fertilizer and feeding them our scraps. Easy peasy, I thought. I love animals, so this would be a perfect job for me. Bianca handed me clay feeding plates she made, and together we fetched food and water for the piggies to eat.


    That¡¯s when it happened¡ªmy class reveal.


    I got teleported to the place they all talk about, that dark cosmic void. Then the dealer gave me my class, Animal Keeper, and my legendary skill: Familiar: Husbandry Dog


    I never had dogs growing up. My dad would never get me one, despite my constant begging.


    ¡°Too much responsibility,¡± he said.


    Now, it looks like you have no choice, Dad. Your little girl is getting herself a dog.


    Making sure there was no mistake about it after coming back into the real world, I pulled my card from my palms like everyone who had classes did before me to reveal my legendary skill.


    Familiar: Husbandry Dog


    A loyal companion that herds and guards your flock and home from threats and vermin, growing stronger as you level up.


    ¡°What do I do, Bianca?¡± I asked, looking at the card with glee.


    Bianca was next to me with a bowl of water, jumping up and down in excitement, splashing water all over.


    ¡°Tap it, Astrid! Tap it, Oh my god, you are so lucky!¡±


    A blue light came from the card at a slight touch from me. It changed into the form of a small round bundle on the ground before me. The ball of blue light then morphed into a bundle of cream-colored fur with a dark brown patch covering its head. The little dog that was born out of magic let out a yawn, which melted both of our hearts.


    ¡°Awww. Oh my god, it¡¯s so cute,¡± Bianca cried, nearly in tears.


    The fear, pain, and hopelessness of being stuck here on this planet all dissolved when I held the puppy in my arms. I rocked the sweet thing gently as it snuggled against me.


    ¡°What are you going to name it?¡± Bianca asked, running her hands through the pup¡¯s soft fur.


    ¡°I think... I will name it... Aja,¡± I said, cuddling the furball against my cheeks.


    We played with little Aja for a good while; she melted away our worries. Soon, others in Thornhill joined after hearing the barks from Aja while she played. The sound of a dog barking reminded all of us of our home. My little familiar was overwhelmed with attention until the Captain came over and reminded the onlookers and dog admirers to go back to work.


    From my talks with others, they say Aja might be a Great Pyrenees, but she had a head covered in dark fur, so she may have been mixed with an Akita.


    As much as I wanted to, I couldn¡¯t just focus on playing with Aja all day. I had to tend to the piglets. With my Animal Keeper card out, new cards would appear, including Livestock.


    When I tapped on Livestock, three cards appeared, listing all the animals under my care that were considered livestock.


    Forest Boar Piglet (¡â)


    Forest Boar Piglet (¡â)


    Forest Boar Piglet (¡á)


    I looked at one, a smaller one with black spots on its hind, and a card appeared in front of me showing information about it.


    Forest Boar Piglet (¡â) - Unnamed


    Domestication - 10%


    Meat - F


    Fat - D


    Leather - D


    Wool - F


    Milk - F


    Other items available: Gelatin (F), Bristles (D), Adhesive (F).


    It felt so wrong to look at these piggies and just think of them as meat. I knew my role here as an animal keeper was to raise them eventually to be... put down... for the village, but it still made me uncomfortable. I wasn¡¯t like a vegan or anything, but when it came to meat, my policy is ignorance is bliss.


    Maybe it''ll be a little easier when they aren¡¯t so cute.


    I fed the piglets with leftover scrap and fish entrails. They ate it voraciously alongside their new canine companion who watched the piglets eat. Aja would take a bite after but kept watching as she chewed. Aja looked protective and even familial with her new pig friends, already taking her task of guardianship over livestock seriously.


    A minor commotion disrupted my thoughts as the Captain stood with some intimidating men and headed towards the mess hall to confront the same animal abuser who left these piglets to starve.


    I carried a protesting Aja in my arm, who licked off the remaining pig feed on her face. I would get her something good to eat at the mess hall and, at the same time, get to see Orion the animal abuser, face justice.


    At the confrontation, the cook seemed unbothered by the accusations leveled at him and proceeded to work as usual. Many in the crowd seemed to be decidedly mixed on the issue. The older folks sided with the Captain¡¯s entourage, while the younger folk seemed to either be quiet or supportive of Orion. That didn¡¯t make sense to me that someone who openly vandalized a rescue operation would have anyone to stand for him.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    While I was here in the mess hall, I grabbed a bowl of stew after the atmosphere settled into a calm normality. The stew I fed myself and Aja was rich and hearty. The pork meat in it was gamey, but it seemed the cook knew how to mask it well using wild herbs and foraged garlic. My table seemed popular today as fellow passengers came by to pet my familiar and offer her their scraps, the young pup licking their bowls clean.


    During my talks with veteran passengers who have been in the village longer, I found out about the species of wildlife that lived around here. It was a mix of European and North American wildlife but altered and evolved in different ways. There were large beaver-sized muskrats, someone spotted some hares, elk with midnight black fur, birds of all kinds, weasels, turtles, frogs, and boars, and someone thought they heard a howl from wolves one night though it must have come from deeper in the forest,


    Since it was my job to keep animals for the eventual harvesting of materials like wool and meat, at least that¡¯s what Bianca told me my long-term goals were, I would prospect candidates for domestication. The young, or rather old, leader who was formerly in charge was overseeing the making of bricks to enhance the signal fire which Slate carried towards the beach for Marek and the two captains to layer the previously finished building higher to prevent night intruders from sabotaging it. All kilns were firing the bricks, and Captain made it a point to finish the newly upgraded signal tower by night¡¯s arrival.


    Bianca confided in me her complete dislike of the job assigned to her. She wasn¡¯t averse to hard work but felt the kilns could be used to make more pots and tools, as they were running out, and the bricks could go to building more shelters. I sympathized with her, but the Captain was following standard practice. Getting a signal to the civilized world was important. People couldn¡¯t live like this forever. Sure, I had plans for my animals but... I still wanted to go home.


    I talked to Bianca about my plans for an animal farm. I wanted Slate and Marek to create a coop and two pens, with her permission.


    ¡°Two pens? What animal besides the boar do you want to raise?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°Something with wool or something we can ride. I was thinking maybe if I can selectively breed the pigs to have better fur, we can double it as a source of wool and meat. Then we can capture some elk and use them like horses.¡±


    ¡°Wow... you really think we can do that?¡± Bianca asked, placing more mud into the plank molds of bricks Marek built for her.


    ¡°Not in one generation, but if I like... keep leveling, maybe I¡¯ll get skills that¡¯ll help that along.¡±


    ¡°A coop? You mean like for chickens?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°Yes, but not chickens. We can maybe... umm... like those red birds the hunters bring in sometimes for food?¡± I suggested.


    ¡°Oooh... good idea. We just need to catch some chicks or friendly birds,¡± Bianca said. ¡°You should ask Orion. He caught us those piglets.¡±


    ¡°Ugh... is there anyone else? That guy scares me, and he treats animals like crap.¡±


    ¡°Rye? He can be intimidating, but he¡¯s really helpful. Just tell him Bianca ordered it, and he¡¯ll do it,¡± Bianca said with a wry smile.


    ¡°Where is he right now?¡±


    ¡°I think he is fishing with Herman and Clark? They are by the river.¡±


    And so Aja and I made our way uphill to the river. Three men were sitting on their asses, conversing by the river, their fishing rods pointing out with one of their feet or hands at the end, waiting for a response from the water. The older black man got up first, and when he spotted the dog, he rushed over and Eskimo-kissed Aja. The younger country bumpkin with a shaved head of brown hair came and stroked the pup as the older gentleman held it, both with huge smiles on their faces.


    While they played with the dog, I made my way to the cook who had a baseball cap over his head, chewing a long blade of grass. In his rested state, he looked a lot younger than I first thought. He might have been younger than me, I thought. The minute he talked or worked, it just seemed like he was an adult rather than some freshman college kid.


    ¡°Working hard?¡± I asked him.


    I had to admit... he was quite intimidating with all the knives on his body.


    ¡°Mmm hmm..¡± Orion said hazily.


    ¡°I need a favor."


    ¡°I¡¯m closed for business today,¡± he responded, not looking up or bothering to open his eyes.


    ¡°Bianca ordered it,¡± I said.


    The young man sighed and took off his cap. ¡°What do you want? Who are you exactly and why should I help you?¡±


    "My name is Astrid," I said, trying to hide my frustration with him and brushing aside my curly brown hair before crossing my arms. "The person who is in charge of those sweet piglets you chained up and forgot to feed."


    When I showed him my Animal Keeper card, he didn¡¯t look surprised, but I could see the gears in his head turning.


    ¡°What¡¯s your special ability?¡± He asked, rubbing his chin.


    I pointed towards Aja, who was playing with Herman and Clark.


    ¡°That puppy? That¡¯s it?¡± He laughed condescendingly holding his sides. ¡°That¡¯s a responsibility, not a skill.¡±


    You''ll see, Orion. Once my dog grows up big, you won¡¯t be laughing.


    ¡°I want to level quickly. You know how to do it. I want you to catch me some animals. Right now, one of those red bird chicks would do nicely.¡± I did not like talking to this dude. I wanted to get it over quickly. Something about his attitude just set me off.


    ¡°Good idea... I was craving an omelet.¡± Orion rested his cap back on his head and lay back down on the grass.


    ¡°So you¡¯ll do it?¡±


    ¡°After Bianca makes a coop, sure. But I want payment,¡± Orion said, not bothering to look up.


    ¡°Payment? Why?¡± Now I was nervous.


    ¡°Somebody taught me a valuable lesson recently. I¡¯m past doing things for free,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°Who taught you that?¡± I asked.


    Probably some motivational nutjob on YouTube, I bet.


    ¡°The Joker,¡± he said with a crooked smile.


    Of course. As expected of a knife-wielding psycho.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to give you unless...¡± I came to a realization, ¡°You sick perv~!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t flatter yourself,¡± Orion sighed, outrage pouring into the accusation. ¡°I just want your promise that the first mountable animal you breed or train will be mine.¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯ll be able to do that?¡± I was taken aback by his confidence in me. I had plans to work hard, and for that to be one of my goals, but it felt like just far-off dreams, much like wanting to become a singer or famous actress.


    ¡°If you have that class, in one month you¡¯ll probably be able to get elephants to perform ballet for you,¡± Orion said sleepily, the blade of grass moving to the other side of his mouth as he chewed. ¡°I¡¯ll get you some chicks or eggs to incubate after Bianca builds a coop. Maybe tomorrow or the next.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s shake on it,¡± I said, stretching out my arm. The young man pulled up his cap and opened one eye before he reached out, took my hand, and we shook.


    Before I left, he said, ¡°Go see my younger brother, Cass. Blond kid with a green baseball hat. He¡¯ll show you where to find bees.¡±


    ¡°Bees?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Honey and wax,¡± He answered as if it explained anything.


    My dog, Aja, came to my calls after I decided to leave the boys to their fishing. Orion stared at the puppy longingly. His wide eyes fixed on the dog hypnotically. When I asked if he wanted to pet her, he shrugged as if he didn''t care and said in a way that hid his true feelings, ¡°I guess,¡± before petting her and making faces at her, whispering babytalk at the puppy. I guess Orion couldn¡¯t be that bad of a person if he passed Aja¡¯s vibe check, but I was still wary of the young butcher.


    After finishing my chores with the animals, the day¡¯s labor involved washing clothes with Bianca and a few other women. Having Aja around made it much more bearable. We washed the clothes using ammonia that Anika created from urine¡ªit was gross, but it worked. We had to beat the clothes and hang them to dry. We worked in shifts of two so that one of us could wear a set of loaner clothes made from flax by Roza. I received an Animal Training card when I taught Aja to perform simple tricks for a bite of my roast fish at dinner.


    At night, we watched the firing of the improved signal fire at the beach at its completion. I noted a few were missing from the ceremony of the lighting of the torch, including Orion. A few people cheered triumphantly and clapped as the embers ignited at the bottom of the wood bonfire atop the bricked base. The log that came up from the signal fire¡¯s base lit the logs piled on top of it like an orange Christmas tree with a long cloud of black smoke that trailed into the sky.


    That night, I dreamed of riding an elk across an endless plain of wheat with Aja running alongside me.


    I spent the next day with Cass, who showed me three areas near the camp with honey bee hives. I was terrified when I approached a hive growing in the hollow of an immense tree. A few of the black and orange insects landed on me as I approached, but thanks to my class, few dared to sting me. I reached into the hollow to pull out some honey. It tasted sweet and floral. I now had something to bribe the cook with if I wanted more animals captured. I also had a new skill that I acquired: Beekeeping 1.


    When I ate lunch, I found out that the rains took the signal fire out yesterday. That would be two days in a row now something happened to it. At least I couldn''t blame this one on Orion.


    By the evening, however, seeing that the wet logs were useless, the Captain¡¯s entourage commandeered charcoal and boar lard to reignite the fire for tonight¡¯s signal.


    Hopefully, nothing will manage to take it out tonight.


    The morning after that, while I was feeding my piglets, who were now growing at an alarming rate, Clark, Herman¡¯s assistant, was running from the beach yelling.


    ¡°BLACK SAILS! BLACK SAILS ON THE HORIZON! EVERYONE GET READY! BLACK SAILS ON THE HORIZON! PIRATES! PIRATES! PIRATES!¡± the shaved-headed man shouted as he sprinted from shelter to shelter.


    Squinting into the horizon, I saw it¡ªa tiny black dot on the blue line of the sea, getting ever closer. Beside me, my canine familiar, who had always been so easygoing until now, was growling, and barking with her teeth bared toward the ocean.

 Chapter 26

    Chapter 26


    Bianca


    Day 16 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 47


    ¡°How is he?¡± I asked, stroking Orion¡¯s sweat-soaked head with the back of one of my fingers.


    ¡°He has an elevated white blood cell count and low blood oxygen levels,¡± Ethan said tiredly, checking his Diagnose card and shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s most likely pneumonia. Anika has given him an infusion of wild garlic and echinacea with her Herbalist skills, but it¡¯s not as potent as macrolides or penicillin.¡±


    ¡°He looks awful...¡± I said, noting his gaunt pale face and the dark circles around his eyes. ¡°Will he really be alright?¡±


    ¡°The infusion Anika made for him to combat the illness made him extra drowsy. That, combined with his deteriorating health... he might be out for a while,¡± Ethan sighed, shaking his head.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to be fine though, right?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Even without strong antibiotics, he should be okay. He just needs a lot of rest to fight it off.¡± Ethan frowned, examining one of Orion¡¯s arms. ¡°His body looks stretched to the limit. The use of his buffs has probably taken a deep toll on his muscles, not to mention he¡¯s been working day and night with little sleep. No wonder his immune system is so compromised.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Rye...¡± I stroked his cheeks, ¡°Why do you push yourself so hard?¡±


    Cass barged in with a basket of wild purple plants and wild garlic. ¡°I brought these. Is Rye going to be alright?¡±


    ¡°Thank you for that, Cass, but please stay with Roza and the other children,¡± Ethan commanded.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a cold, right? He¡¯ll be okay? Wake up!¡± Cass came over to shake his unconscious brother before Ethan held the boy back.


    ¡°Yes. He just needs rest,¡± Ethan reassured the boy before dragging him off and shouting back at me, ¡°I¡¯ll get him a warm compress, Bianca.¡±


    With Orion out for the day, I would have to close the dungeon. When I checked on it, I found out there was still one occupant on it on the first floor: Alex.


    ¡°That little... when I get my hands on him,¡± I muttered.


    I had known yesterday that Orion and Alex had gone into the dungeon. I had also known that they were past the intended limit I set for Orion alone. Somehow, I realized that I was never going to stop those two, or anyone for that matter, from pushing down further. I realized that it was the nature of this world to try to get stronger and now the ones who relied on them had to pay the consequences for it.


    This world rewarded those who sought levels and pushed themselves. I couldn¡¯t fight it any more than the tide. That didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t allowed to be angry at this idiot for pushing himself so hard.


    ¡°BLACK SAILS! BLACK SAILS ON THE HORIZON! EVERYONE GET READY! BLACK SAILS ON THE HORIZON! PIRATES! PIRATES! PIRATES!¡±


    When I heard my worst fears come to reality, my first instinct was to run. I needed to run far away from here. I can rebuild somewhere far away.


    No.


    Someone had to take action. I took all the frustration I had built inside over the past few days of inaction and turned it into will. This was my community, and I had to do something.


    But for the community to survive, it needed its sword, and it needed its knife.


    The mess hall was abuzz with activity, panic-stricken people, and worried faces, and heading them was the Captain who tried his best to calm the folks around him down. Everyone was already expecting the worst.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know if they are pirates, you are just fearmongering!¡±


    ¡°Black sails? It doesn¡¯t matter what planet you are from, black sails mean pirates!¡±


    ¡°WE HAVE TO RUN! NOW!¡±


    ¡°Where is Alex?! Where is Orion?!¡±


    ¡°What about the children? Oh god, the children!¡±


    ¡°Does anyone have a facking cigarette?¡±


    ¡°Calm down everyone, let¡¯s just settle down and sort this out like civilized individuals. Calm down.¡± The Captain tried to ease the panicking crowd.


    ¡°QUIET!!!!!!!¡± I screamed at the top of my lungs, cutting through the noise. The sound of which caused birds in surrounding trees to flee. I don¡¯t know if a skill was activated, but they all stared at me intently, which caused me to redden. Shaking off the nerves of public speaking, I had to resolve myself.


    I first looked upon Cade, our guard, and the other notable dungeon member, who was gripping his spear in anticipation.


    ¡°Cade. Go into the dungeon and find Alex. Get him back here ASAP.¡± I ordered curtly. The young black guard nodded and ran in the direction of the cave entrance, his class ability carrying him swiftly through the forest.


    ¡°Anika, I need you to prep some stimulants, antibiotics, or anything that can fight off Orion¡¯s symptoms. You need to wake him up. Meet us back at the dungeon cave once you are done.¡± With that instruction, Anika nodded and left the group to run into the forest. Before the Herbalist left, I saw her Forager card flash out.


    ¡°Everyone else who can¡¯t fight, I need you to follow me. Right now, we can only hide at the dungeon entrance. Alex, Cade, and Orion will fight off the pirates.¡±


    Herman limped his way into the mess hall from the beach and huffed, bent over exhausted as if he had no more strength in him. ¡°Looks like their ship is dead in the water. They are taking rowboats now. They¡¯ll be on our shores... excuse me let me catch my breath... within an hour or two. We... we need to run. None of you have any fighting experience.¡±


    ¡°I ain¡¯t letting these facking pirates go anywhere near my kids. Give me a weapon. I will kill them all,¡° Marek said, baring his fist and teeth.


    ¡°Marek is right. We can fight,¡± Copilot Kestrel bravely volunteered. ¡°Three boys aren¡¯t enough to take them on if they mean business.¡±


    ¡°You have no classes! Marek is a builder, not a warrior.¡± I marveled at the insanity of their willingness to throw away their lives.


    ¡°And Orion is a cook! You¡¯re placing all your hopes on a sick cook and Alex? Alex the slacker, of all people? I mean to talk to whoever their leader is and try to talk some sense. We have nothing here for these pirates to steal,¡± Captain Alvarez said looking around for support that seemed a lot less enthusiastic than before.


    ¡°We have women and we have children,¡± I said.


    ¡°We have no idea if they are even pirates. Black sails could mean something completely different in this world,¡± Copilot Kestrel said.


    ¡°Enough talk. All of you have to start running right now,¡± I commanded, and half of the crowd was ready to follow. The other half wanted to stay and fight.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t running with pirates on our back trying to hurt my family!¡± Marek said, and other men joined in agreement, with Herman shaking his head furiously in condemnation.


    ¡°AHEM~¡± A female voice cut through the talk. ¡°I love you, Bianca, but you aren¡¯t going to convince these guys not to defend their homes and what they consider their families now.¡±


    Sophie, who was mysteriously absent from the beginning, had arrived from the hills, a wooden carry-on-looking chest trailing her feet. She pulled a card from her palms and dropped it on the chest. It expanded as people nearby stood back and watched it turn into a full wagon. Inside the wagon, Sophie reached in to drop copper swords, maces, axes, some armor, and other weapons onto the ground before the cart.


    ¡°I made a deal with Orion to deliver these,¡± Sophie said with a somber smile.


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    When the men picked up the weapons, they realized the implication. They weren¡¯t going to defend themselves as soldiers do in our world, at a distance with guns. They were going to get up close and personal. So close they would see their enemy¡¯s eyes. Some like Ethan, Herman, and Larry decided against it, but others like Captain Alvarez, Kestrel, Clark, Marek, James, Joseph, and Miguel took up the few weapons available.


    Other men, like the newcomers Bart and Jesus, who couldn¡¯t find copper starter weapons would make wooden spears. The whole thing seemed too infantile and primitive to me as if these were little boys playing make-believe war with sticks they found.


    ¡°Marek, don¡¯t do this,¡± I pleaded with him while he practiced swinging his copper mace.


    ¡°A man has to fight for his family,¡± he said, gritting his teeth, making practice swings through the air with his mace as if he held a baseball bat.


    ¡°We mean to talk to them,¡± Captain Alvarez said, calming everyone down as the men and one woman, Sasha, parted ways with the non-combatants. ¡°We have to reach an understanding to resolve this without violence. These weapons are only a precaution. I will try to explain to them that we have nothing of value.¡±


    Later, with Alex and Cade finally joining back from the dungeon with newly looted weapons, the men regained their confidence. Fitted with their new weapons, they marched towards the shore to meet the pirates, while the others marched towards the dungeon entrance cave to seek safety.


    ¡°Alex, protect them,¡± I begged him and Cade. ¡°You two should be on the front lines. They have no idea how to defend themselves with swords.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t let any of them die, Bianca. Is Orion still sick?¡± Alex asked, to which I nodded. Despite that, Alex still smiled confidently.


    I stared helplessly at the backs of the stupid defenders, cursing myself.


    Why didn¡¯t I make more of them level up in the dungeon? Oh right, Bryden.


    Why didn¡¯t I pick Battle Golem? Why didn¡¯t I prepare them better?


    I should have fought back against the Captain. I should have been a better leader.


    And now they will pay for my mistakes.


    Before the group of refugees went into hiding in the dungeon cave, Ethan and I paid a visit to the still-unconscious Orion.


    ¡°I feel so useless,¡± Ethan said hopelessly, brushing his hands through his black hair. ¡°I can¡¯t... I have a class, but I can¡¯t do anything about this.¡±


    ¡°Stop feeling sorry for yourself. We¡¯ll carry him to the cave,¡± I said briskly. I didn''t know if I was saying it to myself or to Ethan.


    Ethan insisted he would do the carrying, and then I had an idea. I called Slate over. Orion¡¯s body was placed on the palms of the golem, which flattened its rock hands to accept it. We draped the muskrat blanket over Orion, and Slate marched in unison with the refugees toward the cave, with us beside him, assuring that he wouldn¡¯t make any harmful movements to Orion.


    ¡°Easy now, Slate. Don¡¯t hurt him. Just move carefully,¡± I patted the golem¡¯s back.


    When we reached the cave, we lay Orion flat before the dungeon door. The cook was shivering, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he was murmuring to himself softly. His temperature had risen to 103, according to Ethan¡¯s Diagnose card. He would need medicine.


    The refugees of Thornhill sat restlessly in the cave. Sounds of faint crying and panicked murmuring echoed throughout the dungeon. Slate was standing guard at the cave entrance, blocking the entrance with his body. Soon, in the distance coming from the forest, someone screamed.


    Oh no. That sounds like Anika.


    ¡°HELP!!¡±


    Anika was carrying a basket of ingredients, running away from an unknown enemy. She kept glancing back at the person chasing her, and when she saw Slate, she rushed toward the cave entrance, and the golem stepped aside to accept her entrance.


    Her pursuer was maybe thirty paces behind her, its wet tongue lolling out hungrily. The man¡ªor creature¡ªhad slimy, vomit-green skin. Bulging yellow eyes took in its quarry; there was a hunger for flesh behind its gaze in one form or another that made my skin crawl. It carried a rusty bronze machete, which it smacked at the golem¡¯s stone body to no response. Its arms, wearing a patchwork leather and bronze spiked gauntlet, tried to squeeze past a break in the golem¡¯s body, which would lead inside.


    As the refugees inside the cave saw this, they broke into screams, trying their best to get away as far as they could from the cave entrance. Anika was by Orion¡¯s side, stuffing a tincture in his mouth, encouraging it to go down.


    ¡°Slate... please do something!¡± I tossed out a Saw card and designated the frog raider¡¯s body. When the order wouldn¡¯t go through as if a credit card had been declined, dread filled my mind.


    The raider¡¯s almost liquid-like amphibious body squeezed through the hole in the useless golem, like a spelunker going through a tight cave crevice.


    ¡°Stop him, Slate!¡± I yelled, my hands over my head in complete disbelief.


    The golem moved to squeeze the raider''s body, but it was too late. A hideous laugh full of intent echoed in the cave from the raider as it licked its lips, scanning its prizes. It readied its machete, waiting for one of us to defend ourselves.


    In the dungeon cave, everyone from our village who was hiding there saw him, and their world turned upside down. He stood with the height and upright posture of a man on two feet, but instead of a human head, he had the head of a green frog. If the night sky and the magic here weren''t enough to convince them they were no longer on Earth, this sight truly shattered any remaining hope they had left.


    I saw Ethan cower in the darkness near the creature, fear overwhelming his body as he went into a fetal position.


    The frog raider scanned the group, sensing our fear and inability to fight. It targeted Aaliyah, my helper, and stewardess, who yelped as the monster lunged at her, dragging her away. Its machete threatened us all, warning us to back off. Aaliyah sobbed as its tongue and machete brushed the back of her neck. The frog growled threats in an unknown language that sounded guttural.


    Aja was growling loudly and letting out barks as Astrid tried desperately to hold the dog back. In another area, Herman was being held back by a tear-filled Gladys and Anika. The frail old man was yelling while struggling to be let free, ¡°Get the hell away from her, you dirty frog bastard!¡±


    Aaliyah¡¯s head met the cave wall, her eyes filling with tears and dread as the pirate held her there. The frog creature unbuckled its belt with a delighted smile, and in a brief moment of carelessness, Ethan came up behind it, lunging and placing a hand on its legs. A card flashed, revealing Anesthetic Touch. Soon, the pirate was completely unconscious falling suddenly to the floor, and we carried a crying Aaliyah away from the downed frogman, comforting her.


    An older woman, Tiffany, held the pirate¡¯s dropped machete threateningly over the unconscious frog.


    ¡°Who wants frog legs?¡± Tiffany asked, her teeth bared to a chorus of agreement.


    ¡°No. We keep it alive.¡± I ordered. ¡°Tie it up.¡±


    ¡°Keep it alive? That monster tried to take one of us!¡± Ruth yelled pointing accusingly at the frog.


    ¡°We need to interrogate it. Remove its clothes and weapons, and tie it up,¡± I commanded angrily, leaving no room for further discussion.


    We took an inventory of what we took from the creature.


    Leather Spiked Cuirass (M) - D


    Wool Trousers (M) - F


    Leather Boots (M) - F


    Wool Gloves (M) - F


    Gold Coin(9) - The head of the coinage showed a queen of some kind, the tail end a phoenix


    Leather bags (2) - D


    Lesser Potion of Healing - D


    Common silver rings (3) - F


    Bronze Machete - F


    Anika examined the red potion filled in a small glass test tube with a cork holding it. Using one of her Herbalist skills, she managed to identify it.


    Lesser Potion of Healing - D


    Restores a small amount of health


    ¡°What the hell does that mean? Health? Like a video game potion?¡± Anika asked, examining the card with a confused face.


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s safe?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Should be, unless the card is lying,¡± Ethan shrugged. He was holding the frog¡¯s rusty machete now, examining it carefully.


    I came to a decision.


    ¡°We give it to Orion. Any leftover, Anika will examine it and try to replicate it.¡±


    With Ethan¡¯s Prescribe skill amplifying the potion¡¯s effects, the doctor poured the red liquid down Orion¡¯s mouth. We saved a few drops for Anika to reverse engineer. Ethan pulled up his Diagnose card to examine Orion¡¯s vitals, and the doctor¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°His fever is going down. His blood counts are stabilizing. His heart rate is climbing. Combined with the effect of Anika¡¯s herbs... he¡¯s recovering so quickly. It shouldn¡¯t be happening this quickly... It¡¯s incredible...¡± Ethan stared in awe at the card, with his fingers on Orion¡¯s wrists as if he wanted to make sure himself if what he was reading was correct.


    Less than a minute later, Orion slowly opened his eyes, looking like he had just recovered from the worst night of drinking in his life. His dark, sunken eyes took in the scene before him as he tossed the blanket aside. Dark brown hair, matted with sweat, clung to his forehead, strands of darkness covering his groggy face. Rising with purpose, he checked his body for his weapons.


    ¡°We¡¯re at the dungeon cave,¡± I said, not wanting to waste time. ¡°Everyone who can¡¯t fight is here. Pirates are here. They are on the beach. The captains and others are there as well. Please hurry and save them.¡±


    Orion looked around, not bothering to speak as I briefed him on the situation. His eyes rested on the tied-up naked frogman for just a few seconds before continuing his scan. Then his gaze landed on Roza and her children. I realized what he was looking for and suddenly panicked. The cook tightened his belt and reached into the bag Roza had made for him, sniffing a leaf package he had stored there before opening it and swallowing the contents. A few cold words came out of his mouth before he promptly stormed out of the cave.


    ¡°Where the hell is Cass?¡±

 Chapter 27

    Chapter 27


    Clark


    Day 16 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 47


    What do I know about battle? Hell, I¡¯ve been in a few scraps in my day. Silly stuff, real silly stuff. I know when your boys call you up, they expect you to stand by their sides and be a man and all that. Have their backs and all.


    I didn¡¯t want to fight anyone, but I had no choice. I wasn¡¯t going to let pirates or vagrants mess with me or Sloane or Herm. That¡¯s what you have to do. When someone tries to invade your home, you stand your ground.


    This was my home, at least for now. We had built up this place with our bare hands, and I wasn¡¯t going to let anyone take it from us. It ain¡¯t a perfect living, but it¡¯s ours, ain¡¯t it? I had a sword at my side, and I wasn¡¯t no coward. Momma never raised no coward, no sir. I aimed to use it if push came to shove.


    Besides, Captain Alvarez isn¡¯t going to let it come to that, no how. He¡¯ll talk to those folks and clear the misunderstanding. We are poor folk here. There ain¡¯t nothing here to rob, even if they are here to rob us. Maybe they just want some hospitality.


    Ol¡¯ Herm said they look to be stuck at sea, so maybe they just want a plate of food before they hop on back to their boats and head on back to where they came from. Captain won¡¯t let us down. He¡¯ll bring out that ol¡¯ Texan charm of his, and in the end, those folks on the ships will be giving us stuff, not the other way around.


    Now, Alex, there was a soldier ready to fight. If I was some pirate who meant to harm any of us, I would look closer at that son of a gun before I tried anything funny. That sword he had on his shoulder looked as long as a pool cue and as mean as a chainsaw. He and Cade both stood in front, leading the charge down to the beaches. They both made a mean pair, what with a long sword and that even longer spear. It¡¯d be nice if them sailors caught a look at them and jumped on back up the ship.


    We stood where the grass met the sand. Behind us was a forest of trees that Slate hadn¡¯t got to yet. In the distance, we watched as the rowboats got closer and closer. All in all, there were a good number of us here, pretty much all men except for Sasha, who was carrying a bow. I counted two rowboats with six men on each, so we had an advantage in numbers. The only problem was some of the newer guys who came in had to use wood spears on account of there not being enough weapons to go around.


    Now the funny thing was, when the sailors in the rowboats got closer and closer, I realized that some of them weren¡¯t men at all. I mean, some of them looked like men but had actual frog heads instead of human ones. There were some hyena-looking creatures, and others had actual lobster heads where a human head should normally be. It was a scary-looking bunch, like they were wearing masks for Halloween. They all had bronze weapons too, looking worn and battered. A mean-looking bunch, and I¡¯ll admit that it did make me nervous.


    When the boats hit the sands, their leader emerged. Oddly enough, their leader was the scrawniest of the bunch. He was a tall drink of water, no doubt, but he looked like an elf had a kid with some goddamn vampire. That son of a gun had a cruel, crooked smile, reminding me of that ol¡¯ witch in Snow White but with pointy ears. He carried a staff and walked forward while his men laughed when they spotted us, maybe on account of our odd clothing and wooden spears.


    Captain Alvarez didn¡¯t show any bit of fear, though, as he stepped forward to greet their leader, his hands out offering to shake hands with the elf. The elf reacted like he¡¯d just heard some crackin'' joke that made him spit out milk. The next thing we knew, the elf held out that oak staff of his, and he pulled one of them magical cards out of his palms like Herman did when he went fishing. Three beams of magic looking like comets shot out from the card toward the Captain. The projectiles of light smacked him on the chest, once, twice, and then again after he hit the ground. The captain¡¯s body lay unconscious, blood pooling on the sand next to him.


    His first officer, Kestrel, saw this and let out an angry roar of ¡°CAPTAIN!¡± before he charged with that axe of his out.


    Pandemonium erupted after that. Everyone started hollerin'', running every which way. I saw James, that British farmer, hightail it out of there the first chance he got. Aiden, one of the new arrivals, had the same idea and ran for the forest. Soon other newcomers started running as well.


    Sasha loosed some arrows into the crowd of pirates and managed to land some of them with a few of them pirates having to dig out arrows out of their shoulders and thighs, while Cade charged right behind First Officer Kestrel.


    Alex must have used one of his magic abilities, his new sword sliced through a pirate with a hyena face right down the middle in bright light. That hyena fella'' got cut right in half.


    The meanest of the bunch of pirates who invaded our shores picked out Alex¡ªa huge soldier in brown chitin with the head of a lobster who carried a long black war hammer. That giant lobster man must have been at least a foot taller than Alex, and his skin wasn¡¯t soft and pink neither; it was all brown carapace. Those two, Alex and that lobsterman, were going to duel it out.


    This wasn¡¯t an organized raid or army. Pirates were running every which way like rats. They followed no singular command. There were no tactics here. Just opportunism, each fella doing whatever they wanted. Some of them were there for blood, others for booty. Some ran past us toward the houses they spotted, tongues out all hungry-like, and others into the forest to chase after the few of us who retreated. How can they all look so happy causing so much misery?


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


    When Ol¡¯ Marek saw them pirates run for the forest toward the caves where his family was hiding, he charged after them like some mean poppa bear defending his cubs.


    I was in a pickle, caught between whether I should hightail it out of there or stay and help the boys.


    In one corner of the beach, Cade was fighting off three pirates who were cornering him. A flurry of spear thrusts came from him, pricking each, but they hounded him to a retreat while he waited for his cards to come back up. When one of them pirates came too close, Cade left holes in that yellow-furred hyena guy with a serious storm of spear jabs, leaving that hyena pirate dead where he stood. Seeing this, his two pirate friends proceeded more cautiously with Cade.


    Tired of Cade¡¯s constant flurries and his spear keeping them at a distance, one of the attackers, a red frog pirate, brought out his crossbow from his back, causing Cade to retreat in a zig-zag toward the forest. The first bolt lodged itself close to Cade¡¯s head into a tree trunk. Cade used the trees as cover, keeping the crossbowman in his line of sight. The other one, a brown frog pirate, wielding two slender daggers, circled the young guard to pincer him in the forest.


    In the middle of the beach, Kestrel came to the body of Captain Alvarez and froze in stunned horror. Feeling for the Captain¡¯s pulse, he realized it was too late. One yellow frog pirate came after the grieving copilot, who tried his darnedest to fight back, but it was clear who had been in a fight to the death before and who hadn¡¯t. The pirate''s cutlass slashed at Kestrel¡¯s knees, causing him to go down on one knee. When Kestrel moved to defend himself, another slash by the pirate cut off the arm holding his axe. Kneeling before the smiling yellow frog pirate, Kestrel spat into the pirate¡¯s face before his head came clean off with one final strike. The amount of blood that comes from a human body is not something you can get used to. It¡¯s never like the movies.


    This was supposed to be a battle, but damn near most of us had never been in a fight like this. We were used to seeing battles fought on distant continents by drones, tanks, and long-range weapons. The noise of men screaming in terror for their lives, the clang of metal, and the sheer strangeness and brutality of these men were not something we could have prepared for.


    Only one person was made to battle here, and he held a corner of the beach to the right. The giant lobster pirate was swinging his war hammer at Alex¡¯s feet, causing the Hero to step back and lose his footing. Alex¡¯s sword blocked a side horizontal swing of the hammer from the lobsterman this time, the heavy impact causing him to wince. Alex used one of them magic cards of his, and a slashing verticle light came down with his swing, tearing into the lobsterman.


    It didn¡¯t cut the fella right in half, but his straps and armor looked like a laser scorched a line into it. Blue ooze seeped out of the lobster pirate¡¯s carapace onto his leather armor. The lobsterman took out a red potion and swigged it down, and the long vertical slice Alex had just given him sealed up with new chitin underneath, quickly hardening. Alex let out a roar, and I swear his eyes turned red.


    Every pirate near the hero fled as a flurry of sword swings came out from him in rapid succession, smacking everything close to Alex. Alex swung himself and his sword around and around like a top or something. When the lobster man brought his hammer down on that spinning tornado of iron, the human blender cut away one of its four hands, causing him to drop his hammer.


    Wanting to help his pirate crew, a bolt of fire from the Elf wizard launched toward Alex, causing an explosion that damaged both the lobster pirate and the Hero. Alex was charred in flame and rolled toward the water to douse himself. A smile of promise came to the Hero¡¯s face as he lifted himself from the water, half of his face was covered in soot, his arms and legs covered in mild burns. Another bolt would come, but this time Alex was ready to dodge it with a quick side step, the flame projectile fizzing in the water.


    The caster had no time to follow up with his attack, as an arrow from Sasha flew toward the elf wizard¡¯s body. The elf wizard pulled another card. It showed a blue glass barrier on it and, unlike Herman¡¯s card, was in a foreign language. Soon, a blue barrier of magic was summoned right in front of the wizard''s body and blocked Sasha¡¯s arrow. When the wizard saw the young woman who had loosed the arrow, he grinned and brought out another magic missile.


    Before he could send more magic missiles to Sasha, I picked up a rock and threw it at him. The rock smacked him in the head, leaving a trail of red blood on his forehead.


    Must have not had his barrier up in time.


    The elf wizard bared his fangs and walked in my direction, readying another card to cast.


    If I could do one thing, I would have to distract that wizard so Alex could clean up the rest of these guys. The wizard pointed at Sasha and two hyena-men pirates, who had just dispatched another two of ours still brave enough to fight, chased after her with that sick look of theirs. Sasha retreated into the forest behind her when they came.


    I tossed another rock toward the wizard''s face, which it dodged, and it replied with magic missiles toward me. I ran for the forest, zig-zagging between trees that fell to bolts of magic that were intended for me. Trees came down behind me as the elf wizard chased me through the forest. I would hide and throw more rocks at the elf, drawing it away from the beach.


    When I knew I was far enough into the forest, I hid myself from the wizard. This was like a game of hide and seek at this point, and I meant to win it. Trees were being struck randomly with magical spells as the wizard looked for me.


    Good, he has no idea where I''m at. He''s just guessing at this point.


    I tell ya, I nearly pissed myself in that place I was hiding, in the hollow of a huge tree.


    There¡¯s power, and there¡¯s power. This was biblical power. The kind of power that gods possessed. I knew I had done my part, though. I thought I was a fighter, but I ain¡¯t a fighter like this. Not some fantasy hero. Not like this. No way.


    Silence fell in the forest, only the noise of critters and the like remained. I let out a sigh as I felt it was over.


    Just when I felt safe, a wisp made of white light appeared before me, landing in my lap and filling the cavity of the giant tree I was hiding behind with radiant light. Wondering where it came from, I looked up to see the elf wizard floating high above me in the trees, scanning the ground like an owl. Light wisps were coming out of his staff and spreading into the forest like dandelion seeds. The wisp disappeared, and as if an alert triggered in the elf''s head, his gaze shifted toward where I hid. He wore a wicked, cruel smile¡ªa smile I wished I¡¯d live to see put out, but dangit, it wasn¡¯t meant to be.


    I sighed and closed my eyes before three lights came out from the wizard¡¯s staff.


    ¡°Dangit... forgive me, Sloane.¡±

 Chapter 28

    Chapter 28


    Orion


    Day 16 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 45


    How could you let yourself get sick? You only had one job Orion, and that was to protect your brother.


    This was just one of the many reprimands I heard in my mother''s voice as I started running through the forest.


    A stampede of footprints made their way to the dungeon cave, making it impossible to track one over the other. But it didn¡¯t matter. If I knew my brother, he would be at the beach to see the arrival of the pirates.


    I know I come off as overprotective of Cass. Recently, I had gotten used to him running off on his own and becoming independent. I was becoming less and less worried about him getting lost and more and more worried about him and his obsession with getting a class and taking on more than he could handle.


    If he saw a boar, I have no doubt he would try to go after it with his sling. The sling I made for him. If he saw pirates, I have no doubts he would try the same.


    The first person I saw on my sprint to the beach was Marek. He was guarding the pathway to the cave, knowing that if the lobster-headed pirate standing before him got past, they would get to his children and wife. Marek wound up a swing as if he wanted to hit a home run, but it missed the pirate and hit a dirt ledge. The strength of the impact must have been backed by his Builder class strength since it left a vast crater where the mace landed, with dirt debris flying everywhere.


    Despite his complaints, quitting smoking had improved Marek¡¯s physique and appearance. He looked younger, and from what Ethan said, he barely ran out of breath anymore. That, combined with the strength imbued by his Builder class, had made him look like a classic strongman.


    The lobster spat some kind of green liquid on the ground and swiped a cutlass at Marek¡¯s lower torso, landing across his leg and leaving a huge gash across his inner calves, putting the builder on his knees. Marek gritted his teeth but immediately responded after the lobster came in close to strike with another swing of his mace, smashing it against the side of the lobster¡¯s head, causing yellow goo to ooze out of one of the pirate¡¯s beady black eyes.


    I would have stepped in with a thrown knife, but I had no idea if my obsidian knives would do anything against the lobster pirate¡¯s chitin.


    ¡°You facking crab!¡± Marek screamed, bashing his mace repeatedly at the fallen pirate¡¯s body as crustacean mush splattered around him.


    ¡°Marek, get Ethan to check that leg. Go back to your family,¡± I said briskly, rushing past him.


    When I glanced back, Marek had finished taking out his anger on the carapace of the dead sailor, caught his breath, and limped back to the cave.


    In the forest towards the beach, I saw Cade being circled by two pirates. Using my Stealth ability, I snuck behind the one trying to get behind Cade while the other used his crossbow to keep the young guard in place. Cade pivoted, trying to get towards another tree and keep his distance from both of the pirates. The whole thing was a cat-and-mouse game, with Cade soon running out of room to maneuver.


    No noise came out of the sneaky brown frog pirate as my knife tore into his gullet up toward his skull from behind. I removed his iron stilettos, which I deemed probably better than my copper knife for combat but probably not for cookery. I stashed my copper knives in a leather bag I looted off the corpse and planned to come back for them later.


    I had a crossbowman to deal with.


    After the red frog crossbowman loosed a bolt that grazed a tree Cade was hiding behind, it found one of my throwing knives lodged in its eye socket. Dropping its crossbow in shock and pain, the guard charged forward and speared the frog pirate in its gut, then activated his Spear Flurry skill to finish it off as it lay skewered on the ground.


    ¡°Where the hell have you been?¡± Cade asked, glancing up from his carnage to greet me.


    ¡°Have you seen Cass?¡± I asked, ignoring the question.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t he be at the cave?¡± Cade asked, and I moved on. ¡°Wait, I can still fight.¡±


    ¡°Go back to the dungeon cave,¡± I spoke rapidly. ¡°You¡¯re a guard. Go guard them.¡±


    Not having time to talk, I rushed forward toward the beach, using my tracking skills to assess the fight. No footprints that a boy could make. Just ones that belonged to men, either scared and running away. On the beach, I spotted the bodies of Captain Alvarez and his decapitated copilot. Alongside the two pilots'' dead bodies some distance away, two more human bodies of ours were found dead as well.


    Crap, Marek¡¯s gonna be pissed his assistant went up and died. I didn¡¯t know the other one, though. Think his name was Joseph?


    This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go down. Why did they face them head-on? They should have ambushed them.


    On the beach, only two fighters were left there standing. Alex was fighting off a giant lobster man, which I ignored. He could probably take it. The giant lobster man activated a skill and somehow grew even bigger, slamming a hammer that sent shockwaves around Alex.


    I had no way to deal with that lobster¡¯s chitin, but I trusted Alex to deal with it.


    I activated my Tracking skill, analyzing the footprints on the sands of the beach. There were four tracks I had not marked yet going to the right side of the forest. Two of them were chasing one person. The other one was a smaller path that looked to be made by a man walking with a stick of some kind, following a man¡¯s hurried footprints, which went in zigzags.


    I followed the first two tracks toward a pair of laughing gnoll pirates who were throwing rocks up at the tree. Looking at their target, I saw Sasha on a high tree branch with her bow drawn threateningly toward the forest floor at her two pursuers. Anxiety backed with anger was in Sasha¡¯s voice as she snapped, ¡°Come up here, and I¡¯ll shoot.¡±


    The two gnolls just continued to laugh, picking up rocks and trying to dislodge the woman from the branch she was sitting on. A rock was thrown by the gnoll on the left, which smacked the girl on the shins, causing the branch to shake as she held on for dear life. I readied my Deadly Shot, but before I could strike, a rock from a nearby bush, thrown by a hidden figure in a green baseball cap, hurled itself into the face of one of the gnolls. The gnoll struck by the slung rock held his bleeding cheekbones as blood gushed out of it.


    Looks like I found Cass.


    Gritting my teeth at the situation, I launched a Deadly Shot at the other one, my knife implanting right between its shoulder blades. I rushed up to the one clutching his face where the rock had slung and ended his misery with my new stiletto across his throat, ear to ear. My boot came down on the one with the knife between his shoulder blades, smashing his skull into bits of gray matter and bone before I wiped my boot off his leather armor.


    My head pounded and my muscles ached as I stopped to catch my breath. A potion in a glass test tube was on one of the corpses, which I took and downed. The thing tasted like a stale energy drink and felt just as strong. Over by the bushes where I suspected Cass was hiding, the leaves rustled urgently, and the boy was running away.


    ¡°Cass, get over here!¡± I barked, but the boy was gone. I sighed.


    I ran to follow wherever he had gone, but not before Sasha came down from the tree to ask what to do.


    ¡°EITHER HELP ALEX OR GO TO THE CAVE!¡± I shouted back as I ran to catch up to my brother.


    I could see his green baseball cap in the distance rushing past fallen trees.


    ¡°WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING, CASS? GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!¡±


    ¡°We have to help Clark! A wizard was chasing him,¡± Cass said. I could hear the breath run out of him.


    He didn¡¯t have the buffs that I had on and I would catch up to him soon.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go get him. Get back to the cave!¡± I yelled, but there was no response as Cass disappeared into the foliage of the forest.


    Following him led me to a dense forest with unnaturally fallen trees. Not by natural causes or manmade tools. These felled trees were burned at their trunks as if high-intensity lasers had blasted them. I hoped Cass was well hidden now because what I was up against would require all my concentration.


    Out of nowhere, I picked up the sounds of unnatural humming coming from the canopies of the tree. Missiles of energy came from the treetops to where I was standing. Already on high alert, I dove into a trench surrounded by thick roots. Trees came down behind me, which I fled away from. I would continue in the thick undergrowth using my Stealth ability.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    When I thought I had lost sight of him, I pulled out my Stealth card, now realizing it was at level 3.


    The cards presented to me were:


    Shadow Walk - C


    In shadows, you move 20% faster and are harder to detect by magic.


    Silent Plate - C


    The armor you wear makes less noise.


    Noisemaker - C


    You make noise in a different direction to distract enemies. 90-second cooldown.


    I thought about getting Noisemaker, but in this situation, I was up against a magic user, and survival in this fight was everything. I picked Shadow Walk. My eyes scanned for shadows to sneak through as I circled where I thought the wizard was. A firebolt came out near me, but it was clear at this point he had lost track of where exactly I was, with only a faint clue of my general vicinity. I moved through a lower ledge onto the undergrowth and snuck behind the shadows of the fallen tree trunks and other foliage. It grew silent as I crept slowly toward the magic user, readying a throwing knife. Dozens of wisps came from the top of the trees, and one flew toward a bush where a rock slung out toward the origin of those wisps.


    The wizard¡¯s head bobbed back on the impact of the slung rock. Fury arose in the elf¡¯s face, and a card that looked like ¡°Magic Missile¡± appeared before its held staff. I pulled out my card of Deadly Shot and aimed a knife directly at the heart of the elf. I couldn¡¯t risk hitting a headshot with whom I think he¡¯s aiming his missiles at.


    Before the elf wizard cast his offensive magic, he pulled out another card with the drawing of a blue magic barrier on it. My throwing knife smacked against the blue walls of the magic shield before falling uselessly onto the forest floor.


    The elf smiled and cast a magic missile card again. Before it could, another rock from Cass hiding in the bushes had slung in the back of the wizard''s head, causing blood to trickle from its bald gray pate. The elf was being assailed in two directions, knives from me and rocks from Cass, and had no barrier up to block Cass¡¯ projectile.


    Furious, it ignored that and continued to cast. But then something strange happened. As if an EMP hit the area, the cards that the wizard cast suddenly had no glow to them. The magic card showing the Magic Missiles on it was blacked out as if on cooldown, despite the wizard not casting it. An incredulous expression spread across the gray-skinned face of the elf.


    Furious shakings of his staff and summoning a different card did not change it at all. When he tried to charge his staff one more time, the tip of the staff flickered in blue light like a dying light bulb and disintegrated into ashes.


    And then, without the magic keeping the wizard levitating, it fell from the trees and onto the ground, smacking the floor with a thud. My brother came out of hiding from the bush with a knowing smile. Blue light was in his eyes.


    He must have just gained a class? Is Cass now a magic user? Did he counter-spell the wizard?


    Cass twirled his sling and belted one at the downed wizard. The wizard without access to magic was now cowering as Cass reloaded his sling with another rock. The sudden sense of superiority was gone from the elf. It was now without access to its power, and it cowered before us. I would cuff Cass to stop him from delivering the finishing shot and end the wizard myself. The wizard feigned helplessness and lunged at the last second with a hidden blade. Not fooled, I pulled out Parry, which blocked the wizard¡¯s attack, stunning him. My stiletto would rip through his eyes and end up at the back of his skull.


    After the battle, when Cass revealed his class and ability to me, I felt happy for him. Then I realized the implication. I realized this world was going to shift. An overwhelming weight settled on me.


    Class:


    The Anti Mage - S


    Ability:


    Void Field - S


    Turn on/off a field that disables magic in your area. This area grows larger as you level.


    ¡°S! I pulled such a good class, Rye!¡± Cass cried. He held the card proudly.


    I felt like I wanted to cry. It couldn¡¯t be.


    ¡°You can¡¯t tell anyone about your class, Cass. Promise me,¡± I held my brother by the shoulders, my voice shaking, and a terrible terror filled my gut. ¡°On our mother¡¯s soul. Promise me you won¡¯t reveal your class to anyone.¡±


    ¡°What? Why not?¡±


    ¡°Did you see how dangerous this lone mage was? He was what? Some low-level pirate nobody? He had that much power?!¡± I cried. ¡°If there are other mages in this world and they find out about your class, they¡¯ll hunt you down. Everyone here is in danger!¡±


    ¡°But... if I¡¯m an anti-mage, I can stop them. They won¡¯t be able to use magic,¡± Cass asked, confused.


    ¡°That one mage was part of a ragtag group of pirates. He was the lowest of the low. Imagine how many men someone actually powerful can control. Do you think this village can stand up to an army? You¡¯re smart, Cass, you know what your class means. Promise me you¡¯ll keep it a secret.¡± I implored, hoping the desperation and fear in my voice got to him.


    ¡°I promise...¡± Cass said, and I checked his hands to make sure none of his fingers were crossed. ¡°Can I still level?¡±


    ¡°Do it in secret. Don¡¯t ever reveal your cards, at least... not in a non-life-and-death situation.¡± I sighed, burying my face in my hands. ¡°Oh god, what am I going to do?¡±


    Why did this happen to him of all people? Why? My poor brother.


    What¡¯s going to happen to all of us?


    With the wizard¡¯s corpse looted of another minor health potion, a few leather bags, and a robe, I followed the trails that the last missing person made to a body hidden behind a fallen tree. The trunk of the tree was ashen, broken into splinters. The body hiding in the crater of the tree trunk was bloody; two burned shots painted on Clark¡¯s chest. His face looked peaceful. He left the world with a faint, hopeless smile.


    Oh, I¡¯m so sorry, Herman.


    I felt like crying but couldn¡¯t. Not in front of Cass.


    I carried his body to the beach to lay him with the others who had fallen. Miguel. Joseph. The Captain. The copilot. Clark. Cass had stared silently at the fallen carnage without an ounce of emotion. Alex was standing over the corpse of the giant lobster he faced when I found him on the beach. Together with Sasha, we would arrange for the dead to be ready for burial.


    We did a count of all the bodies of pirates that landed on our beach to find one was missing.


    My tracking and suspicions led to the stockpiles. Upon reaching them I had found smashed clay pottery. It seemed like the culprit was searching for something to loot, resulting in the smashing of our empty water pots and other pottery in their attempts.


    When I looked at the few meager possessions that were broken into pieces, an icy anger filled my veins. There were fresh tracks that came from the stockpile up towards the river.


    The tracks led me towards the mess hall. With thoughts of the possibility that whoever did this might vandalize our mess hall and other shelters, I panicked and rushed toward the mess hall.


    I came here to see a yellow frog pirate sitting there, eating a roast fish without a care in the world, with a cup of water on the table beside one of our water pots. He paused mid-chew when he saw me and readied his cutlass, but a thrown knife struck one of his arm tendons as he reached for it.


    His frog eyes bulged as he gripped his bloodied arm in disbelief.


    The frog got up to run, but two more knives from me would pin his leg tendons. He fell face-first onto the floor, wailing in some unknown language. I kicked him over to watch him beg. Tears were on his face while he shook his head as if it was all some misunderstanding.


    ¡°Sorry, we already got one captive,¡± I said coldly before my stiletto went through its neck.


    I didn¡¯t look away as I watched the life go out of him.


    <hr>


    With the threat gone, the refugees in the dungeon cave all gathered at the scene of violence on the beach. Sloane and Herman both ran, screaming hysterically towards Clark¡¯s body, the sight of which was difficult to witness. Herman grabbed his helper¡¯s body into an embrace and sobbed into it. The sight of the old veteran weeping like a baby filled me with guilt.


    The older folks both came crying to the Captain¡¯s and Kestrel¡¯s body. It was especially hard to see Marek fight back whimpers when he saw the body of Miguel, his helper.


    I rounded up the ones who smartly ran away from the battle, hiding in the forest. A tearful Bianca had still seen fit to do her duty as she gathered three new people who spawned from the beach. Aaliyah would not come to help her as she was recovering from her traumatic experience, understandably.


    The new arrivals¡¯ first impression of their new world was the dead bodies of the pilot and copilot and the carnage of the pirate invasion.


    Oddly enough, one of the new arrivals was a priest. Funny timing by fate to have a pastor come in the wake of such death. Many people were already praying for a way out.


    We dug a mass grave with Slate beneath where we would end up placing our garbage dump and compost, and we stripped the pirates of loot and burned them to prevent disease from spreading.


    In another area, five more graves were dug beside Bryden¡¯s, our graveyard growing ever bigger.


    At the service, one of the new arrivals, a young male with curly black locks and a lovely tenor voice, who came today, would sing ¡°Amazing Grace,¡± and Herman would deliver the speech. Herman¡¯s words came out between sniffling and hiccups.


    "I¡¯ve seen a lot of death in my time. A lot of death. It doesn¡¯t make sense for the Lord to take such young and bright people before he took me, but the Lord works in mysterious ways sometimes, doesn¡¯t he?


    In that way, I feel some comfort knowing he¡¯s still here with us, even here in this strange place.


    I¡¯ve seen people die in senseless wars. Wars that didn¡¯t make sense. Wars that lined the pockets of politicians. These young men didn¡¯t die for that. They died because they believed they were protecting all of you... this community they help build up.


    I don¡¯t know what happened to us in the real world. I don¡¯t know if we are still living there and we are just here as copies. I don¡¯t know if our loved ones are still wondering if we¡¯re alive or dead. I don¡¯t know if we¡¯re hallucinating everything.


    I just don¡¯t know...


    You have to ask a scientist that. I just know that we know that we are here. I know you are here. Y¡¯all know I¡¯m here. I knew those poor folks in those graves... these people were here. They lived here.


    The only people in the entire world who know their memory and their sacrifices are us. No one back home knows. Only us. We have to carry their memories with us. Because, my friends, no one else will.


    The living must live to remember the dead. To remember to never something like this happen again. To remember to protect and cherish each other every single day. To remember how valuable it is to live."

 Chapter 29

    Chapter 29


    Orion


    Day 17 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 45


    My morning routine consisted of brewing some dried firecracker berries in a clay pot of boiling water. The taste of the berry tea was flowery with notes of cherry, but I was more interested in the energy boost it provided.


    Firecracker Berry Tea - D


    Increases alertness and energy for 2 hours


    While the tea boiled, I chewed on a piece of reed to brush my teeth, using charcoal as a quasi-toothpaste and spitting it out before sipping it. Then I would go to the river to wash up and shave with my knife.


    Sophie showed up bright and early to accompany me as I searched for elk. I was looking for prospects for Astrid¡¯s mount project. In the forest, the spring''s newborn elk calves were nursing from their mothers. They would start weaning soon, and I planned to capture some of the young ones for Astrid to tame.


    Moving in the shadows of the trees, I approached the grazing herd, using my Stealth card to get within suitable distance of an old bull. An activated Deadly Shot would land on the stunned elk¡¯s neck, the rest of the herd dispersing, before I moved in to finish it, dress it, and store it in Sophie¡¯s cart.


    My friend, the dark blue jackdaw¡ªJD, as I liked to call it¡ªwatched me while I worked. I reached into my bag to tear off a piece of smoked boar jerky. It flew with a shiny rock in its claws that it tossed toward me before grabbing the jerky and flying off. I examined the rock to notice a small gemstone embedded in it before I pocketed it.


    The mood was somber as we walked back. Sophie and I left a thick silence between us; I didn¡¯t want to think about or remember what happened yesterday. I marched ahead of her, pulling her portable wagon.


    ¡°Still blue about yesterday, Orion?¡± Sophie asked, a bit too cheerfully after all the deaths we witnessed yesterday.


    ¡°A lot of people died,¡± I responded in a low voice. I was too drained to get angry at her teasing.


    ¡°None you really cared about. Plus, now that the Captain is gone, you should be happy.¡± Sophie poked me on the cheek.


    ¡°I cared about Clark. I may have disagreed with the Captain, but I never wanted him dead,¡± I said bitterly.


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± Sophie spoke in a soft, serious voice. ¡°If you work like this, you¡¯ll just get sick again.¡±


    ¡°I just have to get stronger,¡± I replied in a tone that ended the discussion.


    After butchering the elk, we sent the hide to Anika, who was in charge of tanning hides and leather. The sinew, gutstring, and hooves were sent to Ethan for processing. The new cooks would handle the meat. It seemed there were two cooks now¡ªGladys and a new woman I hadn¡¯t introduced myself to yet. She was a lady in her twenties who looked like one of the business-class fliers.


    I seared a small elk steak for myself to check the buff it contained.


    Seared Elk Steak - D


    Journey of the Elk -


    Stamina and endurance decrease at a slower rate - 2 hours


    Alex and I had a mission today, and after we both ate elk steaks, we headed towards the beach. Alex had convinced me to bring along Sasha, and I agreed, knowing we probably needed four rowers.


    All of us had brand-new loot: new leather armor, new bags, new waterskins, and new weapons, thanks to the spoils from the dead pirates. I had my stiletto, and Sasha now had a crossbow. We rounded out our party with one more person to make it even¡ªAiden, a high school graduate who was taking a year off before college and now dreamed of becoming a dungeon diver. I wanted to ask Cade, but he had to guard our new frog pirate captive.


    The beach was now clear of dead bodies. We had tied the rowboats the pirates left us to stakes we planted in the sand; eventually, I figured we would have to build a dock. The four of us got into the sturdier-looking rowboat and started rowing towards the sloop in the distance. At the edge of the beach, I could barely eclipse it with my thumb. Alex¡¯s strength showed its worth, and in no time, our rowboat was right next to the pirate ship.


    On the ship, we searched for loot. With our weapons out and our guard up, we cleared the deck and checked each quarter, watching each other¡¯s backs. They had bags of grain, empty save for a few kernels. Barrels that once held wine and rum were now empty, leaving only their acidic smell and color in the wood. Boxes of used plates all smelled of rotted food. In the captain¡¯s quarters, old books had been burned for firewood.


    It looked like these pirates had stolen this ship from a trader or another seafarer, as they had no use for most of the things here outside of gold. One item of interest did catch my eye. On the captain¡¯s main desk was a map, a sextant, and a small compass. I collected each into my bag and rolled the map up after examining it.


    The map showed a shoreline with a few coastal ports and villages. It wasn''t large in scope, as it cut off near the top where the landmass extended off the edge. I wasn''t sure where we were on the map exactly, but several possible shorelines near rivers resembling our Turtle River, as we had called it, stood out. It was also possible that we weren''t on the map at all.


    ¡°Rion... you might want to see this!¡± Alex yelled from the lower decks.


    In the lower holds of the small ship, I held my nose. The stench was unbearable, and I was immediately stunned by what I saw.


    Three men with the heads of moles were chained up in manacles. The men were hominids in stature, though at their tallest, they were maybe five feet. Their faces were furry in colors from dark brown to light gray with long pink snouts. They were long dead, probably from dehydration, if I had to guess.


    ¡°Were they... slaves?¡± Sasha asked, eyes widened.


    ¡°From these manacles, it looks like those pirates were planning to add more inventory,¡± I observed. ¡°They must have gotten stuck at sea with no food or water, and the pirates stopped feeding them.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°What should we do?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°We should free them and dump their bodies,¡± I said, I collected a key from a nearby desk and removed the manacles. I would need them later.


    ¡°What? You mean at sea? That¡¯s kind of harsh,¡± Sasha rebuked.


    ¡°One day we are going to use this ship. We don¡¯t want to spread disease. Dump the bodies.¡± I unlocked the manacles. As the molemen were naked, there was nothing on them before we tossed their bodies aside.


    Back on the top deck, we examined the sails and helm. Aiden raced to the helm and said, ¡°My dad owns a yacht. I think we can steer this thing back to land. Adjust those sails, ye hearties!¡±


    Despite Aiden¡¯s attempt to get the ship back to shore, the rest of us knew nothing about sailing. Aiden told us that eventually, the currents would push the ship back to shore.


    We continued searching the rest of the floors for other loot. I was startled to find some dead pirates in some cabins, lying long dead in their hammocks, but we tossed them overboard with the mole prisoners.


    In the kitchens, I found my personal gold mine. I picked up a copper wok and a cast iron Dutch oven and readied them to be put on the rowboat to be brought back. There was also a cabinet of spices including a pepper grinder, nearly empty, and a glass bottle of a round seed that smelled fragrant like cinnamon.


    The most important loot we found was the gillnets. These could catch a massive load of fish that could feed our growing population. Herman and Clark would be...


    I sighed when I remembered.


    Herman would need new helpers.


    We left the ship, for now, carrying what loot we could back to shore. We had more ropes now, good-quality ones. More bags, a few empty barrels, some empty glass bottles, and stuff that would be considered garbage to others were treasures to us. There was also an anvil on the ship, among other smithing equipment, from the ship¡¯s blacksmith and carpenter¡¯s workshop, but we would come for those later when we eventually set up our forge.


    We rowed back to shore with our new goods. If there was a silver lining to this horrible pirate attack, it was these new items, which would unlock so many new possibilities for us.


    After depositing the new loot in our stockpile and catching some food, I delivered the map I found on the pirate ship to James, our Brit translator and the newest recipient of a class: Diplomat.


    James had been tasked with learning the language of the frog pirate captive and interrogating him. He had also unlocked a new class, Diplomat. His legendary skill allowed him to learn new languages faster. From what I saw, he would collect new words in different languages in cards and store them in a Dictionary card.


    That, along with his innate ability to learn languages, made him a perfect candidate to bridge the gap between us and the natives of this world.


    Still, it would take some time for James to set up a dialog with our captive. The naked green frogman was chained to a tree. His wrists were raw and red from trying to struggle out of his rope bindings. At knifepoint, I slipped the newly looted manacles on the ship on him, tying a length of chain around the tree trunk.


    James examined the map curiously.


    ¡°Get him to show us where we are on the map,¡± I said.


    ¡°Will do, boss sir. I will get him singing like a bird, don¡¯t you fret,¡± James said, the words sounding amused in his British accent.


    ¡°Anything you found out today?¡± I asked.


    ¡°His name is Rakjak or something like that. I¡¯m probably butchering it. Other than that, mostly gibberish at this point. I think he¡¯s mostly pleading or trying to make a deal rather than answering questions. Makes learning his language rather difficult, even with my new class,¡± James said, rolling up the map.


    ¡°Have you tried waterboarding him or maybe peeling off his skin?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I am a diplomat, not a torturer,¡± James scoffed, offended at the idea.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like him being around. The sooner we get answers out of him, the sooner we can dispatch him. He¡¯s already scheming how to get out of his chains and slit our throats in our sleep.¡± I glared at the creature. He and his friends exacted a large toll on this village, and I wanted to run my knife across his gut.


    ¡°Calm down. Think of the benefits here, my boy,¡± James said with calm assurance. ¡°The more I learn about his language, the better I can interact with future outsiders. We can probably talk or negotiate our way out of trouble rather than resort to your knife. But for that, I need a thorough knowledge of their tongue. Otherwise, we will seem like savages to them.¡±


    He was right, of course. Still, I didn¡¯t feel safe with this thing around.


    ¡°There¡¯s one other thing I want you to ask him. Ask him... who are the most powerful people in this world? Which kingdoms and rulers?¡± I added.


    ¡°No doubt, as this village¡¯s official diplomat, it is my duty to understand the complex geopolitical situation of our neighbors and nations abroad,¡± James beamed.


    ¡°You realize after this is done, you¡¯ll still have to do regular farm work, right?¡± I said, to which James sighed.


    With my main tasks done, I went to see Cass. It was easy to track him down, as he usually practiced his slinging in a nearby clearing near the beach shelter. Marek and Slate were making renovations to the beach shelter to add a second floor for more bed space. They wouldn¡¯t create a whole new level, just a ledge in the current shelter, cramming people even tighter as they wanted to start new projects like our warehouse.


    Cass¡¯s new sling had a leather pocket, a new addition. His Crafting skill must have improved. No doubt he had looted some leather from the pirates. Instead of his old obsidian knife, he was carrying one of my old copper ones. I watched my younger brother practice his slinging, the rocks he threw slamming into a rock boulder with a force that caused chips of stone to fly off each time they hit. My brother had always been short for his age, but now it seemed, in the last weeks, he was hitting a growth spurt as if he was willing his body to grow up.


    ¡°I can¡¯t get past level 2 in Sling,¡± Cass said.


    I looked around to see if anyone could hear us, but there was nobody.


    ¡°You probably need to use it against real enemies. Try hunting something with it,¡± I said, to which he nodded. ¡°Just stay away from boars or elk. Maybe practice on a rabbit.¡±


    ¡°What did you find on the ship?¡± Cass asked, tucking his sling away, curious.


    ¡°A map. Some new pans I can use. Empty barrels. Slaves or captives,¡± I sat down on the grass, exhausted.


    ¡°How big is it? The world?¡± Cass looked excited to find out.


    ¡°Big. So big that there are many areas like ours without even a village nearby.¡± I ran my hands through my hair, letting the ocean breeze wash through me.


    ¡°So... what is the council going to do next?¡±


    ¡°Bianca will announce our next plans at the next town meeting.¡±


    ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m planning to go into the dungeon. I won¡¯t be in charge of food anymore,¡± I said. ¡°Gladys will take over. She¡¯ll get more help. Then we have to find a Hunter class and assign more helpers to Herman. We have rowboats now and gillnets; we can reel in a whole bunch of fish.¡±


    As if the boy knew the answer, he nodded. ¡°I can come along and help you in the dungeon. You won¡¯t have to fear anything magical down there.¡±


    ¡°Not yet, and not with anyone other than just me. Alex and Sasha are coming along, so I can¡¯t have them know your secret.¡± Disappointment was on his face as I explained the situation.


    ¡°Why do you think I got it? My class, that is?¡± Cass asked. ¡°I think I¡¯m supposed to help you.¡±


    ¡°No, your class is unique. I¡¯m just a cook. Cass, I know I sound like I¡¯m being too careful, but your class is important. I just have a sense we can¡¯t show any of our cards yet to anyone outside. Not until this village is ready to fully defend itself. Until we can make gunpowder and bombs. You have a responsibility right now, you understand?¡±


    The determination in his eyes made me sick. He really thought of himself as some hero, and maybe that¡¯s what the void had intended with him. I don¡¯t know when I started giving in to the void as some omnipotent force, but it controlled our fates here. Thornhill was given an ace, and we had to hide it from the other players of this world before we went all in.


    ¡°Level up and get stronger safely, then you can show yourself,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be ready, Rye,¡± Cass said with resolve.

 Chapter 30 - End of Act 1: Discovery

    Chapter 30


    Bianca


    Day 17 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 48


    The meal of roasted leg of elk and river trout was devoured like it had been dunked in a piranha pool. The demand for food in Thornhill was growing at a rate we couldn¡¯t keep up with, and to make matters worse, our best hunter and food provider was assigned on a mission today. We had two sisters arrive today, Sorelle and Vesper. I assigned Sorelle to help Gladys and Vesper to help Herman. There was also a bizarre guy with tons of tattoos named Super Nine¡ªyep, that was his name¡ªand I assigned him to help Herman as well.


    That brought our total to 48 people. It should have been 54 people had I been a better leader¡ªno time to dwell on that.


    So far, most of the new arrivals haven''t had much luck getting classes. James got one recently, Diplomat, and Astrid, Animal Keeper. But I wanted everyone to get a class to make their jobs easier. In my talks with Alex, a game nerd, he hypothesized that only a certain number of classes are dealt out in a town, and to increase the number of cards dealt, I would need to increase the deck.


    Where I sat was what was called the high table. I did not like the name, but that was what they called it. It was a picnic table that sat away from the campfires in the back, lit by two lanterns. The lantern smoke was ashy, causing my eyes to water, and in the future, we would either have to mine or find tungsten or hunt whales if I didn¡¯t want such a dirty light source. I didn¡¯t want to hunt whales.


    The crowd was expectant, less rowdy than usual. Their mood had been solemn after the pirate raid, as expected. In a normal situation, I would give them time to mourn rather than tell them to keep pushing on and working.


    This was not a normal situation.


    ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll begin the meeting. I¡¯ll make a few statements, and then I will answer your concerns.


    ¡°Firstly, the council¡ª¡± Yes, it¡¯s time to just acknowledge it rather than go on with this charade.


    ¡°The council has decided the next three buildings on the scheduled build order will be as follows. To make it short, we will refit the shelters to add additional floors to accommodate more sleeping areas. It will be cramped. It will be uncomfortable. It will take a while until we build another, but we have other priorities.


    First, we will build a warehouse. The warehouse will be off-limits. We will assign someone to guard and manage the warehouse. Too often, too many things have been taken from this village and either not put back or not replenished. That ends. Cade will be in charge of guarding it. James and Sophie will inventory it.


    Second, we are building a smokehouse. With rowboats in our possession and the nets from the pirate ship, we will catch and smoke fish. Fish will be our main source of food provided by the government of Thornhill from now on until we can reliably farm hogs and potatoes. Any excess fish will be smoked and salted for storage. This doesn¡¯t mean you have to eat fish. You can hunt. You can catch turtles, birds, rabbits, and frogs, and cook them up yourself. There are shellfish and crabs on the beach. You can forage plants in the wilderness. Expecting someone else to feed you will never work. We can provide you with a base, but it is up to you to fill your own needs.


    Third, to this end, it is unreasonable to expect you to fill your own needs without a bartering system. So, our last building will be a forge. We will take copper weapons looted from the dungeon and melt them down to make copper coins. As we find better metals, we will make better coins and reimburse them. This will promote trade and the economy.


    Orion will be in charge of the dungeon runs from now on, and the dungeon will be closed every other day.


    Everyone part of this process will be paid by the government in copper credits. If you filter water and bring it to the government, you will be compensated by the government at a price deemed appropriate. If you bring fish, you will be compensated by the government. If you help build, you will be compensated by the government with copper credits. As a perk, if you accumulate 500 copper credits, Slate will start work on your personal lodgings. It won¡¯t be much, but at least it¡¯ll be yours. This price is a baseline; it will change and go up depending on the situation.¡±


    Hushed murmurs came throughout the crowd. Larry, an older man, spoke up.


    ¡°I¡¯m not young. I can¡¯t run around carrying water and doing all this heavy lifting. How am I supposed to get credits?¡± Larry shrugged, his shoulders lifting in a questioning expression.


    Nods of agreement from some of the older folks came through.


    ¡°There are several children in the group. You can babysit them or teach them. If you don¡¯t want to do that, you can wash clothes by the river. There are needs around camp that people want done that don¡¯t require strong arms. The whole point of this system is to find something you can do that provides value to the community.¡± I answered without an ounce of emotion in it.


    ¡°And if we can¡¯t?¡± Ruth asked, her worried face made me want to hug her.


    ¡°Then you will sleep in your crowded shelter and eat the fish we provide you. It¡¯s not fair; I know that some people have classes and are young, but this world is not fair, just like our old one. It doesn¡¯t mean we are going to let you starve or make you homeless. Eventually, my goal is to build everyone a home that they can own and be proud of living in, even if they don¡¯t have the coppers for it. But only for now... this will help us get through until we can reach that time.¡±


    Some were resigned, others bitter, others sad. When they faced the reality of this world in the raid, they accepted it. Soon we will get more new people, and they too will have to go through the same thing. I wanted to wrap them all in a hug, but I needed to be strong. I needed them to stand up for themselves. If all of them can be like Rye, Anika, Marek, or even Herman, this community can be so much more.


    ¡°Listen. I know it sucks. I¡¯ve been there. I¡¯ve had the exact same thoughts as you all had. I thought I wasn¡¯t good enough to survive here. I thought I wasn¡¯t going to make it. But I realized I wasn¡¯t alone. I had all of you. I had strangers who I never met before become people who saved my life countless times over and are now my family and best friends.


    Nobody back home is coming to rescue us. We are never getting back home. The only people here who will save you are the ones next to you right now. The people standing here. We can¡¯t get back to Earth, but maybe we can bring a little piece of Earth here.¡±


    I stood up from my seat, making eye contact with all of the villagers


    ¡°GRATEFUL FOR THE MEAL, GRATEFUL FOR THE COMPANY!¡± I yelled.


    And in unison, the rest of the council yelled the same. And a second later, the rest of the villagers did too.


    I wanted to believe that my speech roused them to this small act of companionship and not my Founder Skill.


    <hr>


    ¡°Where¡¯s Herman?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°Said he¡¯s going to sleep,¡± Anika replied with a sad smile.


    Orion let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. ¡°He probably blames me for Clark.¡±


    ¡°No one blames you for Clark,¡± Anika assured him.


    ¡°What about Ethan?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°He¡¯s busy with the wounded still,¡± I answered wearily.


    ¡°Why are those two here?¡± Orion pointed to our new guests on the council, James, who sat up regally, and Sophie, who leaned back, twinkling her fingers in a mischievous wave.


    ¡°James has news to break from his conversations with our captive. Sophie is kinda our treasury secretary. She¡¯ll be in charge of the economy,¡± I explained.


    ¡°Wow... important job. Wonder how she got it?¡± Orion said with a wry smile. ¡°Couldn¡¯t be that she was brown-nosing you the first chance she got here.¡±


    ¡°Someone here has to offer advice to stimulate the economy other than exile everyone who doesn¡¯t work. What is Orion¡¯s job again? Secretary of Snide Remarks?¡± Sophie smiled back at Orion, who just shrugged.


    ¡°When Bianca said we would bring a little piece of Earth here, I thought she meant like art, literature, and science. Not the government being run by big business,¡± Orion retorted.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Awww... the little edgelord has anti-capitalistic views...¡± Sophie said with a finger on her chin, smiling. ¡°How surprising.¡±


    ¡°Can you two shut up? Orion, we need her, and she has good ideas,¡± I said, rubbing my temples.


    ¡°She has good something, alright. If I still had my phone and Instagram app, I would show you what,¡± Orion remarked.


    ¡°Hey, let¡¯s leave the old world in the old world, mister cook. We¡¯re all new people here,¡± Sophie chirped.


    ¡°Enough! James, your news?¡± I asked, wanting to get this over with.


    ¡°I think I located where we are on this map,¡± James cleared his throat with a cough, rolling out the piece of parchment that Orion had looted from the ship. ¡°I believe we are by this river. We call it Turtle River, but the natives here call it Yendel River.¡±


    We all gathered to look at where James was pointing, at the far bottom left corner of the map.


    ¡°You see, here we are, right by this river. Up the river, there is a lake by a mountain with a frontier town, mostly mining, I think. From what I gather from my limited knowledge of the language, it is about either a 3-day walk or ride there. I¡¯m not too sure either way, darling. Over here is a port town, a much larger town. We lay between these two as part of a larger county or province. The capital of which is over here...¡±


    James pointed near the top of the map.


    ¡°I suggest we set up a trade expedition to the mining town. We need ore or ingots unless you can force people who never lifted a finger in their life to go into mines,¡± Sophie suggested.


    ¡°That sounds dangerous,¡± Orion said, shaking his head dismissively. ¡°If they find out about this settlement of ours, we¡¯ll get taxed. Meaning they will want stuff we don¡¯t have, and they will want to raise levies. That''s IF they don''t decide to wipe our village off the map.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to go as ambassadors to Thornhill. We can go as traveling merchants,¡± Sophie said examining her nails.


    ¡°What would we even have to trade? We only have 63 of those gold coins, thanks to the pirates. Other than that, we have no valuables aside from weapons,¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°Think about something we can offer them that they can¡¯t replicate. Something we have on Earth that nobody else has here in this world,¡± Sophie said.


    ¡°Nuclear fission?¡± Orion answered.


    ¡°Nothing dangerous, of course. We can¡¯t give them cannons or gunpowder. I¡®m not stupid,¡± Sophie said.


    ¡°We have knowledge. Knowledge of mathematics, knowledge of science, knowledge of the universe,¡± Anika suggested.


    ¡°Exactly. So what can we sell to them that they can¡¯t replicate but will need to buy from us?¡± Sophie asked.


    ¡°Shakespeare plays?¡± Orion suggested.


    ¡°No..." Sophie had a wicked smile when she gave her suggestion. "Drugs."


    The rest of us looked at each other in revulsion.


    ¡°You want us to be drug dealers?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Nothing too illicit. Anika has a skill. If she can produce something addictive, we can sell it to them, like maybe nicotine or oxy, and then we can ship them drugs to exchange for trade goods. I would like to set up a front company to buy trade goods from them there and then ship supplies here using drugs as the bargaining chips,¡± Sophie smiled deviously.


    ¡°You want us to start another Opium War?¡± Orion asked, laughing.


    ¡°Anika, what do you think?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been starting firecracker berry fields with the help of the farmers. They do have some caffeine and another compound in it called nocedrin, which can be quite potent. In large doses, it can cause the same effects as cocaine, like euphoria and increased energy.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean, what do you think about the moral implication?¡± I asked. ¡°Are you okay with us being drug dealers?¡±


    ¡°Bianca, I wanted to work for the big pharma companies before this. I recognize some of it can come with negatives, but I believe in free will. I will make the drugs if Sophie agrees to sell antibiotics and other tinctures as well.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure, sure. Sell Viagra, for all I care. Drugs will only be the last resort. My first option is Bianca¡¯s teapots and ceramics. We''re a small village so we can''t go with quantity. We need to focus on artisan products. We sell the teapots as a Trojan horse, and then we sell the drug as a steady source of income. You can make it as mild as you want, just make them want more.¡±


    ¡°When you put it like that, it doesn¡¯t make it sound as bad...¡± I said.


    ¡°Bianca, most of us have been drinking firecracker tea to get by for a while now,¡± Anika said. ¡°It¡¯s our form of coffee. The risks are mild, and it¡¯s only dangerous in high doses.¡±


    Great. Now I¡¯m Pablo Escobar.


    ¡°We¡¯ll prepare for our first trade mission then. Keep in mind this may take weeks or even months. I¡¯ll level up my pottery and make better ceramics for trade. Other than that, we have all the coins we looted from the pirate. Orion will level up in the dungeon. James will work on his language skills with our captive. Anika and Ethan can work on drugs. Orion will escort James and Sophie to the trade mission.¡±


    ¡°How are we going to get there?¡± James wondered. ¡°I must say I don¡¯t fancy walking all that way. We¡¯ll probably be gone for a week.¡±


    ¡°Can you send Cade or Alex instead of me? I¡¯d rather not go,¡± Orion said bluntly.


    ¡°No. I need someone reliable to protect Sophie and James there." I denied Orion and then answered James'' question. "Astrid, our animal keeper, has told me she has leveled up in Animal Training, so tomorrow Orion and she will go lasso an elk and try to raise it as a mount. I¡¯ve placed an order for leather to be cured for the saddles that Roza will make. It will take time, but eventually, we will have a couple of elk mounts for you to ride there.¡±


    At that suggestion, Orion beamed, looking forward to the prospect.


    <hr>


    ¡°Rye, can I speak to you alone?¡± I asked the wandering cook after the council meeting, picking up a package I¡¯d prepared for tonight.


    ¡°I¡¯m already capturing elks and conquering dungeons. You want another favor?¡± Orion smiled but came over.


    We walked toward a large tree trunk felled by Slate. I placed the lantern down next to us, and he sat back to back with me on the trunk, not facing my eyes.


    ¡°What¡¯s that in your hands?¡± he asked looking back at the package I left at my feet.


    ¡°Here, it¡¯s yours.¡± I handed him the package, wrapped in banana leaf and tied with vines.


    Inside, he would find a fine earthenware teapot glazed with wood ash. The pot was the culmination of my efforts with pottery so far¡ªa fine red piece of ceramic engraved with a ¡°B¡± on the bottom.


    ¡°It¡¯s my first C-class teapot,¡± I said proudly. ¡°It will enhance the effects of tea brewed in it.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡±


    ¡°We boarded the plane on the night of March 23. We woke up on March 24. It¡¯s been 17 days since then,¡± I explained.


    ¡°Oh...¡± Orion said. ¡°Wait... how did you know? I didn¡¯t even realize.¡±


    ¡°Cass.¡±


    ¡°Well, thanks... you didn¡¯t have to, Bianca, but thank you...¡±


    I wanted to see his face then, but we sat facing opposite directions on the trunk, each of us sharing half, our backs resting on each other.


    ¡°When¡¯s your birthday, by the way?¡± Orion asked, looking back. I rolled my eyes.


    I laughed and said, ¡°You can be a little more subtle than that.¡±


    ¡°How does that naturally come up in conversation?¡± Orion said.


    ¡°You know, maybe between ¡®Bianca, we need a coop¡¯ or ¡®Bianca, we need more salt,¡¯ you could fit in a ¡®hey, how are you doing¡¯ and ¡®when¡¯s your birthday¡¯ once in a while.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you get your information from Cass?¡± Orion scoffed.


    ¡°That¡¯s because I wanted it to be a surprise.¡±


    A silence fell over us, and we were both comfortable in it. I chose to speak up first, something I¡¯d wanted to confide in someone for a while now.


    ¡°It was my fault all those people died. You know, the captain and the rest,¡± I said somberly. The night breeze blew away the strands of hair that fell onto my downcast face. I felt a weight lift off my back as I confessed. ¡°Back when I picked my perk, I could have chosen a battle perk for Slate, but I didn¡¯t. They paid for my mistake. I wish... there was so much I could have done differently.¡±


    ¡°Listen, you put a roof over all our heads. Your cups give us water. Your pots make us food. You shouldn¡¯t be expected to defend us as well. That was my fault if anything,¡± Orion said bitterly. ¡°Not that it was, mind you. It was none of our fault. Not the captain, not me, not Alex, not you. The only people we can blame are those pirates, and they¡¯re feeding the worms Herman uses as bait.¡±


    It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. I knew the toll it took on him and how much he felt like it was his fault. More silence fell over us as we both reflected on our choices without trying to break the silence.


    ¡°My dad does this thing during Christmas and New Year with me and Cass. The three of us share our goals for the next year, so by the end of next year, we can see how many of them we accomplished. By saying it out loud to each other, we kind of made a promise that we would do it. It wouldn¡¯t be anything big, like winning the Super Bowl or something like that. More like, I want to ask a girl out or l want to save up enough money from a part-time job for a VR set. Realistic stuff, you know?¡± Orion said, encouraging me to answer.


    ¡°In a year, huh... I want to... I want my house to have indoor plumbing. I want a working toilet. I don¡¯t want to get up in the middle of the night and walk a mile to pee,¡± I answered first. ¡°I want everyone to have their own home.¡±


    ¡°Geez, thought I said realistic,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°What about you? Come on, spit it out, Rye.¡± I nudged him with my elbow.


    Minutes passed before he could come up with an answer.


    ¡°In a year... I want to open a tavern. You know, one with a nice wood-fired oven where I can serve pizza. I also want to make a coke. Like a cola. We¡¯d all be there. Cass will be helping in the front of the house. There will be a bard singing ¡®Country Roads,¡¯ and we¡¯ll all be eating pizza and having a coke,¡± Orion said wistfully. When he talked about his goals, it sounded like a kid listing off his wishlist for Santa Claus.


    I laughed at the absurdity of his dreams, and he gently bumped his back against mine, playfully knocking me off the trunk. I gave him a light slap on the back, only to wince as a jolt of pain shot through my hand.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see in a year, then,¡± I said, climbing back onto the trunk and gazing up at the starry night sky. A quiet pause hung between us, the world seeming to hold its breath, until he finally broke the silence.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t make the pipes out of lead.¡±

 Chapter 31

    Act 2 - Contact


    Chapter 31


    James


    Day 18 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 51


    The morning air greeted me with a tremulous chill. In the beds provided for us common folk, there¡¯s no such temptation to hit the proverbial snooze alarm and indulge in another hour of sleep.


    Our sleeping situation has improved slightly since I arrived. We now rest on boar hide instead of leaves, sharing muskrat hide blankets. Lying shoulder to shoulder with strangers had become routine; choice was a luxury we didn¡¯t have.


    Breakfast consisted of fish stew boiled in fish stock, served with a side of roasted fish. It seems our dear, sullen cook has better things to do nowadays than serve food to us commoners. The only thing I look forward to in the morning is a nice, piping-hot cuppa firecracker berry tea.


    Oh, goodie¡ªno twigs this time.


    Feeling revitalized by my tea, I headed to check on my plants. I know, I know, but there¡¯s something quite magical about watching plants grow from nothing more than sunlight and water. Samar could speed up the process of our plants and potato crops with her ability. Wheat would take about two more weeks until we can harvest, potatoes in a few days. Finally, maybe we can get some vodka and wheat beer out of that. Maybe I can suggest we plant some barley and hops. Get some microbrews going.


    On her initiative, Samar has been planting a wild mustard plant she found. She plans to selectively breed it into cauliflower, kale, broccoli, and cabbage. Can you imagine that? One magical plant can be turned into all of that. This world is so peculiar at times. I suggested we find wild grapes to make some wine, but she said she didn¡¯t drink alcohol. My day was all but ruined.


    Samar¡¯s farming job extends far beyond just taking care of the village¡¯s farms; she¡¯s also a consultant for many of the other villagers. Many have taken the initiative to start community gardens or private gardens. Anika came to consult Samar about her firecracker berry field, while Roza wanted to learn about making a cotton bush field. With the introduction of the new monetary system, many are consulting Samar about farming, and I suggested she charge credits for each consultation.


    Speaking of the credit system, I had to work out a contract with the council for my official position as a diplomat. They can¡¯t expect me to work for free here, can they? On that note, I left Samar and her new assistant, Yu Li, a friendly enough girl in her 20s, to their tasks. As much as I love to toil in the dirt, I had official state business to conduct.


    My charge was being chained to a tree next to where they were constructing the new warehouse. The golem creature, Slate, had erected several wooden beams on a rectangular foundation while Marek worked on the base. From the design, it looked like a log cabin-style kura I had seen in Japan, designed for expansion. Cade, our town guard, stood outside the foundations of the new warehouse, watching the prisoner and overseeing the delivery of the contents of the warehouse¡ªwhat little we had.


    I nodded to the old chap. Despite his role as a guard, he¡¯s one of the friendlier warriors. Alex doesn¡¯t seem to consider you at all if you¡¯re not a prospective dungeoneer or an attractive female, and as for Orion¡ªwell, I¡¯m sure you can guess what he¡¯s like.


    The captive lolled his long frog tongue out. Agony twisted his green, gaunt face. His skin stretched tight over bone. His huge eye bulged from their sockets with every wheezy breath.


    ¡°I think he needs water and food,¡± I suggested to the guard.


    ¡°Orion says only one cup of water per day until he spills everything. No food.¡±


    ¡°Listen, I¡¯m in charge of this fellow, and I can¡¯t form a relationship with the bugger if he¡¯s starving.¡±


    Cade shrugged as if he didn¡¯t care one way or another, so I placed water and some leftover fish in a bowl, which the captive ate like a dog, not caring an ounce about dignity. The whole scene was pitiful, but I had to remember this creature assaulted a young lady, and his crew had slain many of us.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± I said in his language, which he referred to as Lokan, ¡°How are you?¡±


    ¡°I want to get out. N??????????o??????????? ??c?????a???????????u????????????s????e??????????????? ????????????????? t??????b????. Just leave. Get out.¡± The frog captive croaked.


    ¡°You. Talk. Then get out.¡± I pointed to the mining city next to the lake on the map I unrolled. ¡°Name? City?¡±


    ¡°Kronfeldt,¡± the frog man croaked after examining the map.


    ¡°People like you?¡± I asked.


    The frog shrugged. ¡°Some. Some like you.¡±


    ¡°Like me? I am HUMAN,¡± I said the word "human" in English.


    The frog shook his head again. ¡°You ???.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand that word,¡± I said.


    ¡°Like...¡± The frog looked around and saw the piglets in the pen. His chin and tongue pointed towards them. ¡°That.¡±


    We talked again and again until I understood all the words. I found the word for pig, but that wasn¡¯t what he called us humans. Not birds. Not fish. No. The word he described for us humans was something in cages, but not livestock-like animals. Something subservient and transferable. My Translation skill leveled up to 2, and I settled on the words I thought he meant.


    First: "slave." It was close.


    Second: "cattle." It was closer but missed the meaning.


    Finally, I hit upon the word he meant to describe humans: "chattel."


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


    ¡°Why? Why us Chattel?¡± I asked, dread in my voice.


    His chin and long tongue pointed toward my hands. No, not my hands¡ªmy palms.


    Did he mean the cards?


    ¡°You no card have?¡± I asked though I wasn¡¯t sure if I got the words right.


    ¡°Few have. Chattel many. Chattel important.¡± The frog man wheezed. I gave him another sip of water.


    Besides prying information out of him about the world outside this village, I showed him objects around the camp and asked him for the word in Lokan. As he did, my Translation skill and Lokan language skills leveled up. My Dictionary hungrily devoured every new word. My natural skills in translating and memorizing dozens of words in different languages worked in synergy with this world¡¯s magical skill, making the process of being fluent in his language even more efficient. The objects I was most interested in learning about in Lokan were, of course, the various trade goods we would exchange.


    Ores, stones, glass, clay, pottery, tea, teapots, medicine¡ªand on and on until I understood the nuances of each. My biggest concern was common etiquette in our first expedition. As our captive was an outlaw and possibly not even from this nation we found ourselves in, it¡¯s possible that what I was learning from him¡ªhis speech and manners¡ªmight be viewed as crude by the inhabitants here.


    In an attempt to get him to open up more, I asked him about where he came from. The captive, Rjakk-jakk, was from a village on an island off the coast of the Hidden Kingdom. The Pirate Isles, or Outlaw Isles, was a group of islands that conducted raids on the major trade routes off the coast of the Azure Reach. Their boat had been chased by mercenary companies west until they reached our waters. It was thought that few lived here, except for a few ruined or impoverished mining villages that had been under constant raids by bandits and wild primitives.


    The captain of their pirate company was overjoyed when they spotted a human village, which he referred to as a ¡°farm,¡± as human or chattel slaves were highly sought after and demanded a high price.


    By the time the sun had set, Rjakk-jakk was long past being in a cooperative mood. The warehouse where we had our sessions was half-built, with walls fully erected on three-quarters of the foundation. Slate, the golem, would work through the night tiling the rooftop with clay tiles.


    After a late meal, I would repeat my words to the council, and Orion would appear deep in thought. Orion would come to me afterward and ask for tutoring in Lokan. I was less than pleased at having him of all people be my student but always eager to teach another language to the willing. The lovely Sophie, upon seeing this, offered to sit in as well.


    Thank you, lord. If I had to put up with Orion alone... You always need some sugar to balance out the bitterness, and Sophie was one sweet, sweet girl.


    The two took their lessons seriously, their usual jibes coming to a halt when we started.


    ¡°Now, to begin. To learn Lokan, you must know that, like many languages in this world, it shares a common ancestry with the language of the Elders: Eldertongue. Unlike its sister languages, Lokan is a direct language. We will begin with a common greeting...¡±


    <hr>


    The next day unfolded much like the last, except for one notable difference: the shelters had new occupants.


    They were really cramming us in here like sardines, weren¡¯t they?


    Lately, I had become pretty rank, so I decided it was a good day to finally have a bath. I found a secluded spot upriver to clean up. After a trip to the outhouse and a quick breakfast¡ªyes, fish again¡ªI went to visit our captive frog. I was eager to start an early session and learn more about the world and the language.


    The warehouse was finished now. Cade was nowhere to be found when I arrived at the tree where Rjakk-jakk was chained. I was shocked to find him unresponsive. No air was coming from his nostrils. His chest did not heave. His pulse was gone.


    He was dead. Someone had killed him.


    A commotion started outside the new warehouse when I raised the alarm by shouting, ¡°HEY! SOMEONE HAS DIED HERE!¡±


    When the villagers saw it was only the pirate frog captive, many paid no mind, and others even outright cheered.


    Eventually, Bianca and the camp¡¯s other bigwigs showed up. All of them turned their accusatory eyes toward a bewildered Orion.


    ¡°Guys, I¡¯m not stupid,¡± Orion sighed. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me.¡±


    ¡°Who else could it be?¡± Bianca asked, her voice laced with suspicion.


    ¡°Could have been anyone. Lots of people wanted him dead.¡± Ethan was examining Rjakk-jakk¡¯s pulse and then his neck carefully. ¡°It looks like someone strangled him.¡±


    Orion examined the crowd of onlookers, then examined the ground, and nodded to himself.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty obvious who it is. It¡¯s Sloane. Good for her,¡± Orion said and immediately started walking back to work as if the fate of the frog captive didn¡¯t matter a wit to him.


    Sloane was more than willing to confess when we asked her about it, even proudly boasting. Most people weren¡¯t keen on punishing her, so the council decided not to do anything about it.


    With the captive dead, I returned to the fields. Watching the green leaves stretch toward the sun brought me back to a much simpler time when the world was so much smaller. When my only concerns were within the boundaries of these fields.


    ¡°Back so soon?¡± Samar smiled as she handed me a cup of tea, a twinkle in her light brown eyes.


    ¡°Cheers,¡± I sighed.


    I didn¡¯t mind farming so much now but it felt like I was doing something really important for the village by interrogating the captive. It felt for a while like I was a big shot again, an important cog in the machine. Alas... what can be more important than growing food for our village? I thought positively.


    ¡°Potatoes are almost ready to harvest.¡± Samar sipped her tea as we watched the fields. Sweat glistened on her light olive skin, and I felt a flush creep up my neck as I stared impolitely. She twirled her dark brown ponytail, wistfully as she hummed an unfamiliar song.


    ¡°Wonderful. We can finally get some chips to go with our fish,¡± I smiled sheepishly.


    ¡°It would be nice to eat something other than meat,¡± Samar said laughing softly.


    ¡°It¡¯s done me plenty of good. No more beer belly, thank you,¡± I laughed patting my stomach.


    ¡°You have gotten more dashing,¡± Samar gave a coy smile, eying my leaner figure up and down. ¡°It suits your diplomatic status.¡±


    I laughed as well and then added, ¡°As for you¡ªyou are as lovely as the day I first landed here. I can¡¯t imagine a better companion.¡±


    That¡¯s when I realized I¡¯d made a mistake. She was joking, and I was being serious. That damned look I always get when I know I¡¯ve gone a tad too far with a woman. If I were back at home, HR would have my ass.


    But wait... what is this? Her face is reddening. Maybe?


    ¡°I have a husband...¡± Samar said softly, her gaze shying away from mine. ¡°This isn¡¯t proper.¡±


    ¡°Just a joke,¡± I backpedaled, trying to deflect. ¡°I¡¯m sure you and your daughter miss him terribly.¡±


    Samar shook her head, wiping away tears. ¡°I was visiting family... Riad stayed in New York, too busy with work.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I lowered my head, realizing what she meant. Her husband would never "spawn" in here. She was stuck here with her daughter alone.


    ¡°Do you think our loved ones moved on or got closure?¡± Samar asked wiping away her tears with her sleeve. ¡°I wonder if Riad will remarry, eventually.¡±


    ¡°Do you want him to?¡± I asked, unsure of what else to say.


    Samar didn¡¯t answer. She just turned away, her silence heavy as she returned to the fields.

 Chapter 32

    Chapter 32


    Orion


    Day 19 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    With my Firewielder skill active, I lit the resin attached to my bundle of joy, a mix of plants and dried firecracker berries. I tossed the lit bundle of dried leaves into one of the scarlet fowl burrows and placed my stick cage over the entrance. Black, sooty smoke poured from the dark hole in the dirt, followed by one scarlet fowl hen and five of her chicks. As they scuttled into the stick cage I had built, I placed a piece of plank over the cage''s opening and tipped it over. I secured the plank with two pieces of rope to hold my package in place. Using the rope as a handle, I carried the live creatures back to the camp.


    Slate and Marek were busy constructing the blacksmith''s forge, so Astrid and I took on another task. We built a small fence, about a yard wide, near the pigpen to house our new birds. I feared the mother wouldn''t make it; she might try to burrow out. I carefully opened the plank covering the cage just wide enough for the chicks to pass through into their new home before sealing it. A college-aged woman with curly brown hair tied in pigtails bounced over, her puppy¡ªcovered in ivory fur except for its black-hooded head¡ªtrotting beside her.


    ¡°Good job,¡± Astrid said. Aja was sniffing the pen curiously, and I reached down to pat her before the dog jumped over the fence to sniff at her new wards.


    ¡°They are pretty aggressive,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯ll try to burrow the minute they grow, so hopefully we can build a coop by then.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll domesticate them before that happens,¡± Astrid said, staring at the noisy hen in the cage, which was crying out as she was separated from her chicks. ¡°What are you going to do with that?¡±


    ¡°Smoke its wings and meat. Make broth out of the bones. I think I have enough feathers for a pillow now,¡± I replied, causing Astrid to give me a look of disgust, which confused me. ¡°I seem to recall you weren¡¯t a vegan.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be so cruel about it,¡± Astrid said shaking her head in disappointment.


    ¡°I try my best to kill it quickly,¡± I shrugged. ¡°Anyways, we should work on the elk calf next. I¡¯ll need you to come with me.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have a skill to calm wild animals or something? I¡¯ll get an elk calf, but I need you to calm it down,¡± I said.


    Astrid had a plate of berries and worms, which she placed inside the scarlet chick pen, and nodded. Aja had jumped out of the chick pen and came to her side.


    ¡°Did you meet him again?¡± I asked. ¡°The dealer.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Astrid showed me the card she got after reaching level 5 of Animal Keeper: Selective Breeding.


    Selective Breeding


    Whenever an animal under your care is pregnant, select from three random traits or mutations you want to promote.


    I slapped her on the back, which elicited a glare. ¡°Wow, good job. That¡¯s an amazing skill.¡±


    ¡°You know I¡¯m going to pick traits that keep my animals alive, right? I¡¯m thinking about promoting the boar¡¯s fur so we can use them like sheep,¡± Astrid commented.


    ¡°Good idea. We can double up on fur and fat with the pigs,¡± I said. Astrid¡¯s face tightened.


    ¡°Is that all you think about when it comes to animals? Their uses as byproducts?¡± Astrid asked, a hint of frustration in her voice.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the luxury here of doing anything else. We have to exploit the land and the resources,¡± I responded.


    ¡°Snickers, Peaches, and Daisy are all so adorable. I can¡¯t think about eating them. I¡¯ll stick with fish,¡± Astrid said sulking.


    ¡°You named them?¡± I sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t get attached to food.¡±


    ¡°Where are we headed?¡± Astrid asked, falling into step beside me as we walked through the village.


    ¡°Ethan and Alex,¡± I said.


    ¡°Huh? Why those two?¡±


    ¡°Ethan can subdue one elk, Alex is strong.¡±


    At the mess hall, Ethan was tending to one of Alex¡¯s stitches on his bare shoulder, and I came over to explain the situation. I noticed Astrid eyeing Alex¡¯s muscles while Ethan stared intently at his needlework.


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll finally be able to do something other than making string,¡± Ethan smiled.


    ¡°Count me in. I can¡¯t wait to ride an elk mount,¡± Alex said jovially, making Astrid swoon a bit.


    After gathering supplies¡ªspecifically, food buffs wrapped in leaves and several ropes, one of which I fashioned into a lasso¡ªwe headed north.


    Aja kept sniffing the forest floor and emitting low growls in directions we steered clear of.


    I knew of few predators roaming these forests. There were the spotted yellow and black wolves, which I¡¯d seen on my hunting trips. They were wary of humans and immediately ran away when they caught my scent. As we ventured further north, giant claw marks on trees indicated large bears roamed here. Using my Tracking skills, I spotted markings made by elk and followed them downhill to a meadow with a pond full of water lilies and reeds, where they were feeding.


    JD, my jackdaw friend, watched me perched on a nearby tree as I hid behind bushes with Astrid. The elk herd, numbering a dozen, was at a small stream drinking and feeding on plants with their backs to us. To the right were trees, and to the left, were hills.


    ¡°I have a plan. Do you see that elk cow and her calves? I want you to move to those trees over there on the right and jump out to scare them towards us. Got it?¡± I whispered.


    Astrid nodded, and I tied ropes around my throwing knives. With a bite of salted scarlet fowl meat, I felt a surge of energy¡ªFlight of the Scarlet Fowl¡ªboosting my sprinting speed by 10% for the next hour.


    ¡°When the elk approaches, Ethan, use Anesthetic Touch on the mother. I¡¯ll trip her up," I instructed. "Then, Alex and I will handle the calves."


    I handed Alex and Ethan lassos.


    ¡°They¡¯ll bite, so be careful,¡± I warned, and the three of us waited in the bush for Astrid to get into position.


    When Astrid came out growling like a bear, the elk were confused and only started moving away when Aja came behind and started barking, herding the elk toward us. The elk moved towards us at a brisk pace but not a full stampede. I moved back and readied my throwing knives. Targeting a tree trunk right ahead of the mother Elk leading its family, I threw the rope knife. When it lodged firmly into the trunk, I pulled on it.


    Soon after, the elk cow tripped. Ethan ran out awkwardly and placed his hand on the thrashing elk with his skill, Anesthetic Touch, activated. The mother elk quickly fell into a deep sleep. Her calves skidded to a stop behind her.


    Alex cast Holy Strike on a small tree, felling it and cutting off their retreat path. The four young calves, confused, circled their mother.


    I tossed the lasso near one calf, but it missed by a mile. The calf got up and galloped the other way. At full sprint, while the calf was still recovering, I leaped on it and wrestled it to the ground. It bucked while I manually placed the lasso over its head and tightened it.


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    ¡°You¡¯re hurting it!¡± Astrid yelled, coming over. ¡°It¡¯s scared!¡±


    ¡°Come over here and help me,¡± I cried. ¡°Settle it down with one of your abilities.¡±


    The elk calf was still bucking while I held the lasso firmly. My hands burned until Astrid came over and cooed softly, calming the creature. After a few grunts, Astrid picked wildflowers and clovers and held them to the calf¡¯s mouth. It flinched back at first, but slowly sniffed the plants and ate them. Astrid gently caressed the side of the calf¡¯s face as it ate, while Aja came over and licked it on the nose.


    Alex and Ethan had secured two more elk calves, and we repeated the process. We created a daisy chain of lassos to lead three calves¡ªtwo males and one female¡ªleaving the mother and one male alone.


    ¡°Do you want to name it Orion?¡± Astrid asked, petting the lead calf.


    ¡°Why me?¡±


    ¡°We made a deal, remember?¡± Astrid smiled. ¡°The first mount I raise will be yours.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get it back first. I won¡¯t name it until I can ride it. Otherwise, it might end up in my stomach,¡± I said, threatening the calf, only half-joking.


    ¡°Hear that, boy?¡± Astrid baby-talked the calf. ¡°You better grow big and strong and let this mean man ride you, or you¡¯ll end up as steak. I won¡¯t let you end up as steak, no I won¡¯t, no I won¡¯t.¡±


    The trip back was twice as long as the trip there. Astrid gently nudged the calves, her voice a soothing whisper as she coaxed them to move forward, though they hesitated at every step. Every time one strayed or resisted, Aja would come behind and bark, setting it straight.


    ¡°Do you think this will work? There might be a reason humans never domesticated elk,¡± Ethan pondered, his breath coming out in an effort.


    ¡°I want to try,¡± Astrid said, caressing the elk¡¯s neck, which had calmed down after I tugged it along toward the camp. ¡°My dream is for everyone to know about Astrid¡¯s elk.¡±


    ¡°You realize that by the time that happens, we¡¯ll have invented cars, right?¡± I said, smiling.


    ¡°They¡¯ll be for nobility then. Like how only rich people own horses now. Cars are just so uncivilized,¡± Astrid huffed.


    We placed the elk calves in the pen with the fenced-up chicks and the three piglets. I tied each lasso end to an individual stake near the middle of the pen. Alex and Ethan parted ways after this, and I was left alone with Astrid, feeding the elk calves who were restless in the pen.


    ¡°Why bother chaining them up? The fence should be enough,¡± Astrid said, frowning at the extra restraints.


    I glanced at the flimsy wood, imagining the elk easily breaking through. ¡°Trust me, these fences won¡¯t hold for long. Once you¡¯re confident they¡¯re not going anywhere, we can ease up.¡±


    Astrid observed the calf¡¯s restlessness and sighed. ¡°Fine. Just wait here, I have something for you.¡±


    Wondering what it could be, I waited and examined the piglets. They were growing at an alarming rate. Their pale yellow fur was setting, and they were now the size of small toy dogs. Their food was mainly our discards, fish heads, and discarded green tops and roots. Their manure would be shoveled by Samar and the other farmers for the compost heap for fertilizer.


    Astrid came back with a small lidded jar in her hands and presented it to me. ¡°This is for you, Mr. Cook.¡±


    I opened it to reveal golden-yellow syrup¡ªhoney.


    ¡°You got honey?¡± I said, surprised.


    ¡°Yep. The bees don¡¯t seem to mind me. It¡¯s payment for today, and I¡¯ll make you more if you help me with one more thing,¡± Astrid said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything unless...¡± I asked, then realized something. ¡°You sick perv¡ª¡±


    Astrid laughed gently and shook her head. ¡°Make me beehives. I think I can plant their queen in another place.¡±


    ¡°We can make beehives out of clay pots or mud and sticks,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll do it if you promise to give me one jar of honey per week.¡±


    We shook on it.


    Astrid, I think this is the start of a wonderful relationship.


    Later on, I roamed the camp looking for Cass. He was sitting in the mess hall in front of Herman. The mess hall had become a sort of games room and rest area for the villagers. Some people were tossing dice, others were playing checkers, and others just hanging out at the tables getting a drink and relaxing with friends.


    On Cass¡¯s table, there was a board of wood with uneven cuts made by a knife that divided the board into 19x19 grids. On the board, irregular marble stones and irregular obsidian stones were placed in the intersections. The match was pretty even, but as Cass and Herman played, it looked as though Cass was teaching Herman. Cass was leading Herman into capturing some of his white stones, but Herman was wary despite Cass willingly offering them.


    ¡°You see, Hannibal drew the Romans in,¡± Herman explained, but his face was fixated on his board position. ¡°Then his wings swung around... when those Romans were surrounded, it was a slaughter.¡±


    ¡°Why did they fall for it?¡± Cass asked. Unlike Herman, he was more interested in the conversation than in the game.


    ¡°Overconfidence. They had the numbers and underestimated their opponent,¡± Herman said.


    ¡°Never played Go before, Herman?¡± I asked, sitting beside my brother with my eyes on the board.


    ¡°I¡¯m more of a chess guy, but this young fella wanted to teach me how to play this,¡± Herman said.


    ¡°He¡¯s really good for a beginner,¡± Cass said. ¡°He¡¯ll beat me in no time.¡±


    Herman smiled and placed a black stone on the board.


    ¡°Herman... I¡¯m sorry about Clark. I know you blame me and...¡± I said after a while.


    ¡°It ain¡¯t your fault, son.¡± Herman sighed. ¡°I just wish I was there fighting alongside him. They made this magic world, and I¡¯m stuck in this old useless body.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to come back to the council?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I realized when I saw that frog monster that my time had come. Magic cards. Monsters. I¡¯m out of my depth here, son. I¡¯m sorry... it¡¯s not right to put this responsibility on you young¡¯uns, but magic and monsters... it ain¡¯t for me,¡± Herman said sadly. ¡°I¡¯m just a fisherman now. An old beat-up fisherman.¡±


    ¡°We still need someone experienced to guide us,¡± I said, hoping Herman would reconsider


    ¡°The answers I have are for a different world, different rules,¡± Herman sighed, his gaze lost in the board as if he wanted to bury his face in the board. ¡°I¡¯ll always be here if you need me. The road you have is difficult, but I know you young¡¯uns have it in you to overcome it.¡±


    After dinner, I headed to the beach. The pirate ship, now stranded close to shore with its black sails looming ominously, was finally brought in by the currents. Bianca came at my call, and soon every able body that could row a boat was rowing towards the sloop. On the ship, all twenty of us rowed the sloop closer to the shore. As the ship approached the sands of the beach, Alex and I took the mooring line to shore in a rowboat.


    Meanwhile, Slate heaved a massive fridge-sized boulder onto the beach. We quickly anchored it with the mooring line, ensuring the pirate ship wouldn¡¯t drift away. Back on the boat, Marek came to help four other men, including myself, lift an anvil from the ship¡¯s forge near the stern. We tied the anvil with more rope and tossed it overboard into the shallow water. After a huge splash, I grabbed the rope tied to the anvil and brought it to shore, where Slate pulled it in. Slate then carried the anvil to the newly constructed blacksmith forge.


    We looted the entire ship¡¯s forge for our new blacksmith forge¡ªbellows, tongs, hammers, chisels, files, a workbench, a swage block, tools, vices, racks, and several iron and bronze ingots. The pirate raid was a nightmare, but one positive it brought to the village was this ship and all its loot. Besides the forge items, we had empty barrels, fishing nets, bins, buckets, and other storage vessels that were being ransacked and brought to the village. I knew eventually we would have a shipwright fix this sloop, and then we would reverse the process, bringing everything we took back onto the ship. But for now, all this loot would help our village grow.


    Just before midnight¡ªor what we decided was midnight¡ªthe blacksmith forge came to life. The forge stood in a rustic log shack, its brick furnace resembling a miniature chimney, glowing warmly as the charcoal crackled. On top of a stump, Slate placed the ship¡¯s anvil. We placed all the tools, racks, and workbenches inside the smithy. After installing the bellows, we added charcoal and watched the forge ignite.


    There were a dozen of us now, including myself and Bianca, watching the process, while the rest chose to sleep or wind down.


    ¡°Who wants to be our blacksmith?¡± Bianca asked the crowd. ¡°Classes are important, but it¡¯s also important to want to do it.¡±


    ¡°Let me try,¡± an eager youth shot up his hand as if we were still in high school. The young man had short jet-black hair and bronze skin. He was a recent arrival I hadn¡¯t met yet.


    ¡°No way! I¡¯m going to be the town¡¯s blacksmith,¡± another young man around the same age with the light brown buzzcut declared, crossing his arms.


    ¡°Shut up, Bart. I¡¯ll be the blacksmith,¡± the first man said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about smithing, Jesus. You work at a garage,¡± Bart said.


    ¡°Pendejo, we work at the same place,¡± Jesus snapped back. The two fought over the tongs to put their bronze ingots into the forge.


    The two started fighting over the tongs. When they both got their bronze ingots into the forge, their eyes glowed blue, and soon after, we had two blacksmiths.


    Jesus¡¯ legendary skill was ¡°Armorer.¡±


    Armorer: Weapons and Armor created by you have increased durability and hardness.


    Bart¡¯s legendary skill was ¡°Hammerer.¡±


    Hammerer: With a hammer, bend metal and other things to your will. Hammers and war hammers will weigh nothing in your hands.


    ¡°Congratul¡ª¡± Bianca clapped and cheered before being interrupted.


    ¡°Mine is way better,¡± Jesus smirked, looking at Bart¡¯s card. ¡°Looks like the dealer thought you were a weakling who can¡¯t lift a hammer.¡±


    ¡°Bro, no fucking way. Yours is a bitchboy skill. Make me a good hammer and I¡¯ll use it to crush the enemies in the dungeon,¡± Bart laughed.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t making shit for anyone but myself,¡± Jesus said, then started hammering his ingot into a blade shape.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make my weapons better even without your skill,¡± Bart replied, grabbing another ingot and placing it into the forge.


    Thornhill finally got our blacksmith, or blacksmiths, and our smithy. Bianca and I would work on the mold for the first copper coin using sand and clay the next day. Bart and Jesus would melt down the copper weapons we looted from the dungeons to pour into molds, and we would finally have currency.

 Chapter 33

    Chapter 33


    Bianca


    Day 21 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    Three men, including Marek, his helper Christopher, and a prospective mason named Bruce, were standing around a dig site that Marek had identified as perfect for a well. The digging area was a lush depression that Marek said would be ideal. Wheelbarrows of bricks, previously used for the Captain¡¯s signal fire, were placed near the stockpile I had designated, and I checked to ensure we had enough materials.


    Stockpile #3:


    Logs: 12


    Bricks: 263


    Planks: 59


    Mortar: 23 lb


    I withdrew my Stone Well card from my palms and examined it. The outline of the well appeared over the depression and the giant hole currently being dug by Slate. To remove Slate from the hole, I tapped my Familiar: Golem card, then tapped it again to reform him above ground. Meanwhile, Slate would remain in the hole while Bruce began lowering the bricks and mortar using a bucket and pulley system. I checked the Stone Well to see if it was ready to be built.


    Stone Well Requirements:


    Logs: 10/10


    Bricks: 250/250


    Planks: 50/50


    Mortar: 20/20


    Bucket: 1/1


    With everything set, I left the boys to their work. Marek and his helper would build the wellhead using the logs, bricks, and planks I had provided. It was a big project that would take days to complete but would save valuable time for our water bearers and boilers.


    Since we have stopped receiving new people, one of my many jobs besides making pottery was expediting and overseeing the many projects we had in town.


    At the blacksmiths, Orion and Alex returned from their dungeon expedition with new loot for the two blacksmiths ¡°brothers¡± to melt down into coins. Anika made a simple scale using a balance beam and two bowls to measure each weapon, the amount of coins produced, and the weight of the hilt or non-metal weapon byproducts. I thought it was unnecessary since I didn¡¯t think the blacksmiths would pocket any coins, but I was reminded by our treasury secretary, Sophie, to trust but verify. Each time they produced coins for us, we would reward them with one coin each.


    The copper coin itself was a simple design¡ªthe outline of an airplane on the head side, and a berry on the tail side.


    That was how it would start: one copper coin for service rendered. Every member of the village got ten coins to start with. The excess coinage would be tucked into Sophie¡¯s merchant cart, redistributed by me, and locked away with her special ability, Portable Wagon. For this service, Sophie would only charge the village one copper a week, which Orion said was too high.


    Today was going to be a good day. With our economy getting underway, people were more eager to work. Aaliyah, who had previously been working with me to welcome the new arrivals, found herself without a task. She came to me for advice, and I suggested she either help Astrid with the animals or assist Anika with her herb gathering and drying. She decided to go with Anika.


    Near the river, wash ladies Tiffany and Joycelyn were offering clothes-washing services for a copper each, and I took them up on their offer. I stripped down to my bare self and handed them my stinky clothes, a copper coin each, and used temporary clothing made by our seamstress Roza. The clothing looked like a burlap sack, but I couldn¡¯t complain.


    My next stop in my burlap sack, while the ladies washed my clothes, was to get a bite to eat. Fish was provided for free, for which I paid Herman and his two helpers, Super Nine and Vesper. With the newer nets looted from the pirate ship, we were bringing in fish by the boatloads. We had roasted fresh fish today, but I knew and smelled that they were smoking a whole lot of fish near the beach.


    Orion had set up a small food stall after his dungeon dive, and I approached him to see what he was serving. He had a large Dutch oven with oil boiling, two pairs of sticks he used as chopsticks, and was frying potatoes and what looked like chicken pieces. After the bird pieces were done, he took them out and drizzled some honey with fermented wild garlic in it. A small crowd was gathering around during lunchtime, attracted by the smell of honeyed garlic bird and potatoes cooked in animal fat.


    ¡°Where did you get honey from? And all those potatoes?¡± I asked with amazement.


    ¡°Honey from Astrid and the potatoes come from Samar,¡± Orion said, sprinkling salt onto the fried potatoes and then chiffonading some wild chives on a log cutting board. ¡°They both owed me favors, so I cashed them in.¡±


    ¡°Can I have a bowl?¡± I asked, and Orion returned my question with a knowing grin.


    There were six empty plates in front of Orion that he filled with two pieces of fried scarlet fowl and potatoes. He then garnished the potatoes with his chives. The dish looked sooooo good. A line formed, and Orion announced, ¡°Honey garlic fowl and twice-fried potatoes. One copper each. Only one copper each. Line up here, first come, first serve!¡±


    At that, people just started grabbing plates, leaving one copper behind. I saw Marek, on his lunch break, push two people out of the way to grab two plates, arguing with Jesus and Larry. Orion pocketed his six copper coins and started cleaning up.


    ¡°Rye... old buddy. Can you do your friend a service and make me one of those? You know I am the mayor. I can offer you two coins,¡± I asked, coming over to Orion with my best puppy dog eyes.


    ¡°Sorry, mayor. First come, first serve. I have things to do but enjoy your day. Nice clothes by the way,¡± Orion patted me on the head before skipping away.


    ¡°OH come on, you have a dead bird right there,¡± I said, pointing to the plucked one he was carrying by its legs.


    ¡°I¡¯m smoking it. It¡¯s my provisions for the dungeon,¡± he said without looking back as he headed towards the smokehouse near the beach.


    I sighed and grabbed the free plate of food offered by the government... well, me.


    I¡¯m getting so sick of eating fish.


    Since Orion mentioned Samar¡¯s potato harvest, I went to the farm to see how it was doing. James and Samar were laughing while picking the potatoes out of the earth. Samar¡¯s daughter, Amina, was holding a basket alongside them. Another worker, Yu Li, a quiet, lanky Chinese woman who I hadn¡¯t talked to much since she arrived, was on her break drinking some tea while munching on a stone-baked potato.


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    When the potatoes came out, they came in bunches like grapes. Unlike the potatoes I knew from Earth, they were small, almost fingerling-sized. The few big ones that came out, Samar would set aside, cut into quarters, and replant in the soil. It looked like she had a skill but didn¡¯t show it. I guess she has her reasons, and I wouldn¡¯t press her about it.


    ¡°That¡¯s so amazing!¡± I said, coming over and marveling at their harvest, piles of potatoes stacked in wicker baskets. ¡°Make sure you get all of it assessed by the council, and we¡¯ll pay you for them.¡±


    ¡°Miss Bianca,¡± Samar shyly said, looking down, ¡°I sold some already to Orion and others... I¡¯m sorry. I know they are village property, but I can give you back the coins I received.¡±


    ¡°No no no... you did the work. You should get the coins, Samar. You and all the other farmers here, especially you, Amina,¡± I said, patting the young girl standing beside her mother on the head.


    ¡°We couldn¡¯t have done it without Slate plowing and tilling the fields, Miss,¡± Samar said gratefully.


    ¡°As long as you are feeding us with something other than meat and fish, I¡¯ll always be happy to send Slate over,¡± I beamed a smile. ¡°Oohhh, what have you got there?¡±


    Some flowery weeds that were in rows in the tilled field stuck out to me. I wondered what crop they could be since they didn¡¯t look like wheat or flax.


    ¡°It¡¯s wild mustard,¡± Samar answered. ¡°It¡¯s similar to the one that grows into kale and broccoli.¡±


    ¡°This thing? Wow...¡± I nodded and then pointed over to the stalks of wheat, ¡°Is that wheat? Holy cow. It¡¯s growing so fast. When do you think we can harvest it? I can¡¯t wait for Orion to make me some bread or pasta.¡±


    ¡°Maybe a week or so?¡± Samar answered.


    ¡°We¡¯ll still need a mill to mill that wheat, darling,¡± James smiled cordially. The guy oozed class for whatever reason. I don¡¯t know if it was his British accent, his long parted chestnut-colored hair and thick beard, or the way he stood¡ªhe resembled a lord.


    ¡°You know what. I¡¯ll get on that. After we finish our well and new mess hall. That¡¯s our project. A mill,¡± I decided. ¡°And I think we should celebrate, don¡¯t you? After we harvest the wheat, we should have a festival, like a feast. You guys did so amazing here. We should all celebrate the harvest of the wheat.¡±


    ¡°An inspired idea by our gracious leader,¡± James said bowing dramatically. ¡°That reminds me... do you think you can till more crop fields? Variety is the spice of life. I would recommend we plant barley and grapes next.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s a good idea too, for different reasons than James¡¯s obvious want of beer and wine. Crop rotation. We¡¯ll need a granary to hold the wheat while we plant rye or barley,¡± Samar suggested.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see about it. Definitely. Slate is just so busy,¡± I said. ¡°Who else did you sell potatoes to, Samar? Besides Orion.¡±


    ¡°Oh... the priest,¡± Samar answered.


    So, like that, I went to see Father Gallagher. Father Gallagher was a Catholic priest who arrived during our most infamous day yet¡ªthe day of the pirate attack. He had seen the carnage of the aftermath and had been troubled since arriving here. When he met the Dealer, he received his class, Brewer, and a new purpose in his life. Despite the supernatural confrontation with the Dealer, his faith in God, well the Abrahamic god, remained unwavering.


    Father Gallagher was placing a mash of potatoes, water, and honey in wooden casks recovered from the pirate ship.


    ¡°Vodka?¡± I asked the jolly red-headed priest, his pale face alight with tenderness and warmth.


    ¡°I¡¯m calling it meadka,¡± the Father said before pulling out a ¡°Yeast¡± card from his palms. His special ability, Fermentation Master, allowed him to control non-harmful bacteria or fungi like yeast and lactobacillus. Anika, upon hearing this, would ask him to produce penicillium fungus for her own uses.


    ¡°What¡¯s in this?¡± I asked, sniffing a sour-smelling cask with an orange mash.


    ¡°Firecracker berry wine,¡± Father answered, wiping his hands and looking up from his work. ¡°Mayor Thornhill, now that you are here, I have a favor to ask of you.¡±


    ¡°Please call me Bianca, Father.¡±


    ¡°Very well then, my child. As the mayor, you oversee the construction of buildings, yes?¡± Father Gallagher asked.


    ¡°Mmm hmm... we are really booked right now though. I have Slate working on a water well and then walling up our mess hall. After that, we might build a mill.¡± I said sheepishly, I had an inkling of what he wanted.


    ¡°I understand the demands on you, Bianca, and the need to protect the body is clear. But the soul¡ª¡± Father Gallagher¡¯s voice softened, a quiet urgency in his words, ¡°¡ªthe soul needs protection too. In times like these, a church can be a sanctuary, a place of peace in a world that feels so chaotic. Our community needs that kind of solace.¡±


    "I... well..." I hesitated, wondering what Orion or the others would say. They''d probably think it was a waste of resources.


    ¡°It may not seem as important as other buildings, but after all these deaths and in this strange new world, the people in our community need peace and comfort. They need to know that God is with them.¡±


    ¡°I... I¡¯ll see about it. I¡¯ll bring it up during a council meeting.¡±


    ¡°The cost of constructing a building is 500 coins if I recall. I would ask for a loan to build it and then repay it with the coin I make from these spirits and the collections from the church followers. Bianca, I know the council favors pragmatism, but spirits are low right now. The people need respite, my child.¡± Father Gallagher¡¯s calm smile reassured me. I had wondered why he didn¡¯t get a Priest or Cleric class, but it seems God had another plan for him.


    ¡°Definitely. I¡¯ll ask them. I just hope it¡¯ll be a church that welcomes all who worship, not just Catholics.¡±


    ¡°I will try my best not to evangelize Bianca, and focus on our common beliefs. All those who worship the word of God will be welcome in my church.¡±


    I nodded and then left, not sure what to do next.


    <hr>


    ¡°A church? Right now? We still don¡¯t even have proper roads,¡± Orion said, shaking his head in disbelief.


    ¡°What a surprise... the edgelord is anti-religion,¡± Sophie remarked tapping a finger on her chin, smiling teasingly at Orion, who glared at her. ¡°I think it¡¯s a great idea, Bianca. You know what they say, the opiate of the masses~¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve talked to others. Marek and his family are Catholics. Marek said he¡¯ll construct the church for free if Slate helps him. Herman is a Baptist as well. There are a lot of Christians in this community,¡± Ethan said with a tone of agreeableness, hinting that he might be one too.


    ¡°What about us non-Christians?¡± Anika asked with worry plain on her face.


    ¡°It¡¯s not entirely fair, I know,¡± I said, glancing at Anika with a mix of sympathy and resolve. ¡°But it¡¯s what most people need right now. Father Gallagher has a point¡ªwe need more than just survival. We need hope.¡±


    Anika frowned, clearly unconvinced, but nodded slowly, the tension lingering in the air.


    ¡°Are you a Christian?¡± Orion asked me, raising an eyebrow with slight suspicion.


    ¡°I was. I mean... I guess I still am. I was a Presbyterian. I kinda... well,¡± I felt embarrassed as if he was judging me, but Orion seemed strangely understanding. ¡°I didn¡¯t go to church much after high school.¡±


    ¡°No doubt those liberal colleges brainwashed you away from God,¡± Sophie clicked her tongue. ¡°I¡¯m a Catholic too, so I think it¡¯s a wonderful idea.¡±


    ¡°After the mill is completed, I think I¡¯ll build it. Nothing big or grand like a cathedral. Just a small church for people to go to. We can definitely use it for other things. I hope that¡¯s okay,¡± I asked, mainly to Orion and Anika, who seemed most opposed to the idea.


    Orion shrugged looking bored. ¡°It¡¯s your village. If you think it¡¯s best for the community, then do it. Having Sundays off might be good for people.


    Anika glanced away, her voice soft with uncertainty. ¡°I just hope it doesn¡¯t divide us.¡±


    In the back of my mind, I felt part of me wanted the church to prevent Sloane¡¯s actions. If she believed that Clark was in a better place, maybe... Why didn¡¯t I talk to her? I¡¯ve been so busy. I¡¯ll talk to her soon. I¡¯d spent so much time focused on keeping us alive, but I wanted to think more about what makes life worth living.


    We finally reaped our harvest. The rowboats and nets have brought in more fish than we know what to do with. The farms were producing crops. Soon, Astrid would have eggs and pork for us.


    Now we needed to focus on keeping people happy, making them want to live on.


    My last visit of the day was to the graveyard. It was the one area of our village I didn¡¯t want to build or plan on building, yet it grew. Six graves now marked our losses: Bryden, Captain Alvarez, Copilot Kestral, Joseph, Miguel, and Clark. As I placed flowers on each grave, a heavy resolve settled in my chest¡ªthis was the one place in our village that wasn''t allowed to expand. It had to stop here. We can¡¯t afford to lose anyone else. Never again.

 Chapter 34

    Chapter 34


    Orion


    Day 24 of Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    The beach¡¯s once-pure ocean scent was now clouded with smoke and fish. When I opened the smokehouse door, the pungent musk that greeted me smelled like fish sauce mixed with ash. Inside, my assorted meats¡ªfilets of elk, muskrat, and scarlet fowl¡ªwere smoked into a rich mahogany. I wrapped each in banana leaves to bring to my cook stove near the mess hall.


    I¡¯d chop the dried smoked meat and combine it with boar tallow and dried firecracker berries to make my rations: pemmican.


    Special Pemmican - C


    Firecracker Blast - 20% Increased Alertness and Energy (6 hours)


    Boar Padding - 20% resistance against piercing and slashing attacks (6 hours)


    Migration of the Elk - Stamina and endurance decrease at a slower rate (6 hours)


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl - 15% increase in top sprinting speed (2 hours)


    Hide of the Muskrat - Grants brief shield against rain and water (6 hours)


    Five buffs for six hours. I thought about how I could improve this recipe. I could, of course, use higher-quality fat for my pemmican binder. The meats could be marinated before smoking to enhance their flavor. The dried berries could be sprinkled with sugar. Once our farmers and animal keepers improve their products, I could raise my cooking rating to B or A. I would also need to find new meat¡ªperhaps bear meat could replace muskrat; I¡¯m sure bear meat would give me a great buff, though I heard bears had a ton of parasites.


    With the creation of the pemmican, I could feel my level increase and pulled out my Cook class card to notice the new number 8 on it. Only two levels left until I unlock a new skill.


    The pemmican needed to rest and set before I could collect it for my dungeon raid later. I wrapped my finished creation in leaves and set it in a dry place before heading to the blacksmith.


    The new blacksmiths were currently focused on nails and hinges because of their dwindling supply of iron ingots. We needed a source of ore and miners soon. There was an expectation that Slate would handle it, but his work orders for buildings would see the golem busy for a long time. The well was being worked on, and soon Marek would continue work on his own house.


    Marek was planning and laying the foundation for his own home. Having his own house would relieve the burden on the overcrowded shelters with five fewer people crammed in the overcrowded shelters.


    Speaking of overcrowded shelters, Some people had started sleeping on the pirate ship. There was enough room for many people on board, but most were afraid of the ship drifting away, sinking, or being haunted. As for me, I stole a hammock from a cabin and used it in Shelter Two after Alex and Sasha had been too noisy on the ship.


    Arriving at the blacksmith, Bart and Jesus glanced up from their work. I dropped four copper credits onto the workbench. Immediately, they both reached for it, locking eyes in silent competition.


    ¡°You have my order?¡± I asked.


    Bart smiled and brought out my three new throwing knives, made of iron.


    Iron Throwing Knife (3) - D


    20% Increased Accuracy


    The black iron knives were narrow and long, looking like black lances. In my hand, they felt like feathers compared to my old obsidian knives. I tested them on a nearby tree. Each knife landed a hair length next to the other.


    I grinned as I retrieved the knives from the trunk, feeling its balance in my hand. ''Very nice.¡±


    ¡°You ain¡¯t seen nothing yet,¡± Jesus said, bringing out his set of knives.


    Iron Throwing Knife (3) - D


    20% Armor Penetration


    I tested them on a tree trunk outside with my Deadly Shot activated, and they cut through the trunk, leaving a slit and coming out the other side to plant themselves in the dirt. My accuracy knives would go on the left side of my apron, and my armor-penetration knives would go on the right side.


    ¡°Bro, I¡¯ll let you keep your two coins,¡± Bart said, holding up the war hammer he¡¯d looted from the lobster pirate Alex had killed. ¡°In exchange, let me go with you to the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Hell no, pendejo. Orion homes, you¡¯ve got to bring me,¡± Jesus pleaded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring one of you at a time since we need a blacksmith here every day. Bart, you¡¯re up first. Meet me at the edge of Shelter Two in an hour.¡±


    Arguments erupted between the two over the dungeon as I pocketed two coins from Bart.


    Was it unethical to carry favor with the blacksmiths by taking them to the dungeon? Yes. Yes, it was.


    My next stop was Anika¡¯s ¡°apothecary,¡± a mishmash of drying racks, stumps of giant trees with trays of arranged herbs, and worktables that Bianca promised would eventually become a proper building for Anika. She was currently picking petals off a flower and placing them into her drying rack. I placed a copper coin on her workbench, and she pocketed it, handing me a leaf package.


    ¡°I¡¯ve analyzed the red potion we looted from the pirate. This is a herbal powder that will speed up recovery,¡± Anika said clinically.


    Green Elixir of Health - F


    Slightly Restores Health


    ¡°I know, I know. It¡¯s not great, but it¡¯s hard to wrap my mind around the idea of a potion,¡± Anika said, bowing her head apologetically. ¡°By the way, those purple flowers you found in the dungeon¡ªbring me more, and I¡¯ll waive my fee today and tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Will do, Ani,¡± I said with a smile and went on my way.


    My next stop was Bianca, who handed me the clay pots I ordered. The four clay pots were formed into ball shapes with thin walls. At the top was a small circular neck for pouring liquids or other materials. I tucked the four clay bottles into my bag and offered her coins, but she waved them off.


    ¡°I probably owe you so much. Just take it and keep yourself safe, okay?¡± Bianca assured me warmly.


    Waving goodbye, I went to see the priest or our brewer to collect some alcohol. He owed me for providing him with honey and potatoes. A strong concentration of alcohol and some pork lard I saved went into the bottles, which I stoppered with dry plant fibers as wicks.


    Clay Molotovs - D


    Fire spread 10% faster


    With my potion, my new throwing knives, my rope, my Molotovs and flint, and my pemmican, I was ready to go.


    After a brisk lunch, the party convened to ready themselves for the dungeon. Alex, Sasha, and Cade stood alongside two eager newcomers, Bart and Aiden. Sasha carried a crossbow looted from a pirate and a copper sword at her side. Cade had a new iron spear, thanks to the pirates. Bart gripped a huge hammer that the giant lobster had used to fight Alex on the beach. Aiden carried an axe. Alex, as usual, carried his longsword. Each weapon had been tweaked, edged, and granted additional modifications by the blacksmith brothers.


    All of us were wearing a mix of dungeon gear and pirate loot.


    I understood the risk of bringing so many people, especially newcomers, but we needed stronger people in Thornhill.


    The pirate raid was the first wave, and we were lucky it wasn¡¯t much worse. A ragtag pirate crew with one wizard should have wiped us all out had it not been for Cass¡¯s Anti Mage class.


    We marched toward the dungeon entrance at a brisker pace than usual.


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    ¡°My ability lets us march faster to battle,¡± Alex bragged, showing me his ¡°Party Leader¡± skill card.


    Our formation was simple: Alex and Cade would be up front, and Sasha and I would guard the back. The new joiners would be sandwiched between us to carry loot and gain experience.


    The first floor was straightforward¡ªone Deadly Shot knife thrown by me followed by a spear into the backside of one rat and then onto the next. Another Deadly Shot and a bolt from Sasha''s crossbow took out the final rat. We looted the weapons we found, with Aiden and Bart carrying them, and collected the coins into a party pot. Thanks to my tracking skills and Alex''s Party Leader skill, we cleared the floor in under thirty minutes.


    The second floor was much more complex. The tracks were jumbled, with many more enemies spread out in every direction. I decided not to venture to collect every chest and instead focused on following the main ¡°highway¡± of foot traffic that led to the altar room. This would be our biggest challenge so far, and everyone prepared.


    Our looters dropped their weapons to free their movement as we snuck into the altar room. Behind us, Cade guarded our backs while Alex took the vanguard. Bart¡¯s giant war hammer trembled with fright as he saw the scene before him: dozens of gremlins on the stone stairs and a huge orc sitting on a throne.


    I ate my pemmican and readied my armor-piercing throwing knife. Reaching back for some extra mustard, I launched a Deadly Shot straight between the orc¡¯s eyes, piercing his skull and pinning his head to the stone throne behind him. He clutched his face mindlessly before collapsing on his throne.


    A sea of glowing yellow eyes turned to face us. Sasha started loosing bolts into the front of the crowd charging us, aiming for their legs, and I followed with my accuracy knives. The front of the stampede of gremlins tripped as their legs and knees were shot, causing a mass of them to stumble up the altar steps toward us. Behind us, more gremlins rushed to pincer us.


    Cade defended the narrow entrance to the altar room with a series of spear thrusts, his jabs needling the reinforcements. I moved in to support him, ready to step in if any enemies broke through. Behind us, Alex cleaved through the stumbling gremlins, fighting to reach us like crabs in a bucket, while Bart and Aiden dealt with the stragglers and those who had been knocked over. We finished off the remaining gremlins and the orc with a final jab or stab, then gathered the coins and weapons before pressing on.


    At the Jester¡¯s room, we made our purchases. Alex picked up a pair of bronze gauntlets, Cade bought bronze greaves, and Sasha chose a leather hood.


    ¡°Go back up,¡± I instructed Bart and Aiden.


    ¡°I can still go, Orion,¡± Bart gripped his war hammer tightly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the weapons back,¡± Aiden offered, stepping forward.


    I glanced at Bart, who carried his massive hammer as if it were a pool cue. We might need him, but he was still so new.


    ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t get hurt. Just stay behind Alex and Cade. We haven¡¯t finished the next floor yet.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you say, Boss,¡± Bart said with a mock salute, causing Alex and Sasha to erupt into laughter.


    I sighed, ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. You guys ready?¡±


    Everyone nodded, and we moved forward. The next area was a swamp marsh with ruined stone walls and ramparts. Guard towers, patrolled by giant crocodiles walking on two legs, loomed over us. The water we stood in was about a foot deep, hampering our movement. We found patches of mud and sand to stand on, alongside bushes of purple flowers, which I harvested for Anika.


    A hulking crocodile monster emerged, stalking past the shrub where we hid just five paces away. Its bronze scales glinted, and its jaws were packed with razor-sharp teeth. Its long arms ended in dagger-like claws. Even hunched on two feet, the creature towered over me, standing a full head taller.


    I readied my armor penetration knives and targeted its legs, sinking one into its tendon. The beast hissed and limped towards us. I fired a Deadly Shot at its head, lodging into its right eye. Alex and Cade advanced to skewer the beast with twin thrusts. Our new weapons finally pierced its hide.


    The crocodile, riddled with wounds, collapsed in a heap. Bart¡¯s hammer came down on its head to finish it, the splashing of the water coming still after the final blow was dealt. A smile spread across the young blacksmith¡¯s face as he revealed his new skill, ¡°Path of the Warhammer.¡± My Throwing Weapons skill also leveled up to level 5.


    Another crocodile came to investigate the noise and met with the same fate. We continued through the swamps tackling the crocodiles with the same approach, at a slow and steady rate, always with the option to rush back if we became overrun.


    When we reached the first guard tower, we found stairs leading up to a large wooden chest. Cade prodded the chest with his spear from a safe distance. Suddenly, a giant brown anaconda with white rings down its body dropped from above, coiling around the chest with its tail rattling as it prepared to strike.


    I fired a Deadly Shot, driving a knife into the snake¡¯s neck. It hissed and lunged at Cade. Alex¡¯s Holy Strike carved a deep, bloody gash into its side, but the snake continued its assault.


    Cade deployed a Guard¡¯s Shield card, and the snake¡¯s head slammed into an invisible barrier. Arrows and knives peppered its body while Alex kept slashing and Cade held his defense. Eventually, the snake, now riddled with wounds, collapsed in a bloody mess, its body resembling red ribbons coiled around the chest.


    I retrieved the loot the snake was guarding without complaints. Slipping it onto my middle finger, I tested it. A firestarter¡ªinteresting.


    Ring of Ignition - C


    Snapping the ring ignites a brief spark.


    ¡°Man, this is so easy. Why are you guys only on level three?¡± Bart asked.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t work as a team last time. Plus, we¡¯ve got better weapons now,¡± Alex smiled cleaning the blood off his long sword.


    ¡°What do you mean we?¡± Sasha laughed. ¡°You were the one who always wanted to go 1v1 with enemies.¡±


    The next guard tower had stairs leading down. A wide stone archway near the bottom opened into a room with a large iron gate and a giant frog, the size of an elephant, covered in green slime that left a sticky trail of goo beneath him.


    ¡°How the hell are we going to beat that?¡± Cade asked gripping his spear tightly to his chest.


    ¡°Same strategy. I¡¯ll aim for its eyes,¡± I whispered and crept forward.


    With my Deadly Shot activated, my accuracy knife shot toward the frog¡¯s bulging eye. The slime-covered eyes resisted my knife, and it bounced off the slime membrane and fell to the ground.


    ¡°Crap, it¡¯s coming,¡± Cade said.


    I reached for my clay Molotovs in my bag, ¡°Hold up. I¡¯m going to light it up.¡±


    Using the Ring of Ignition, I lit the Molotov¡¯s wick with a snap of my thumb against the ring on my middle finger. I aimed it at the ground in front of the frog, careful to avoid the slime. My Throwing Weapons skill ensured a precise throw, and the Molotov shattered at the frog¡¯s feet. With my Firewielder ability, flames quickly engulfed the frog, the slime acting as an accelerant.


    The frog¡¯s protective slime evaporated, revealing its scorched flesh. Its mouth gaped open as its tongue lashed out toward Alex, who charged forward letting out a Holy Strike. The attack left a spray of blood and a chunk of the beast¡¯s severed tongue. Bolts and thrown knives followed, turning the frog into a pincushion.


    The frog leaped high into the air, descending toward us and crashing into our formation, scattering us. Panic set in, but Cade acted quickly, thrusting his spear into the frog¡¯s right thigh. We all charged in with melee weapons. As Alex tried to shield his face, the frog spat a foul purple substance onto his new bronze gauntlet.


    ¡°Get it off!¡± I yelled. Alex struggled to remove the gauntlet while his forearm began blistering.


    Bart crept up behind the frog, lifted his hammer, and brought it crashing down on its left thigh. When the frog opened its mouth to scream, I threw a lit Molotov down its throat, cooking it from the inside out. The stench was sickening, and some of us retched while others held their noses.


    A blue chest appeared, making the unpleasant smell a bit more bearable.


    Bronze Spear of Stagger - C


    Grants a chance to stagger opponents


    Iron Shield of Warding - C


    Resistant against Poison


    Leather Boots of Feather - C


    Jump 20 percent higher and farther


    We chose the Iron Shield of Warding for Cade to block poison spittle in future runs. The frog dropped five glass jester coins marked with the number five, which I assumed were worth five regular coins. Each of us pocketed one.


    I applied powdered herb to Alex¡¯s burns. He grimaced as the green poultice sizzled and released minty smoke, soothing his skin.


    ¡°Wow¡­ I¡¯ve got to get some of that.¡± Alex let out a sigh of relief.


    ¡°Anika sells it for a copper. That wasn¡¯t free, by the way. You owe me a copper,¡± I said, holding out my hand. Alex sighed and handed me a copper.


    ¡°Yo, what do you think is on the next level?¡± Cade asked, wiping sweat off his brow.


    ¡°Only one way to find out,¡± Sasha challenged, smiling at me. ¡°Are we going through or back up?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll take a quick peek and then head back up. Knowing what¡¯s ahead will help us prepare.¡±


    Alex and the others high-fived and cheered. We were finally heading down to level 4.


    The imposing iron doors creaked open to reveal staircases¡ªone leading into darkness and one into light. Alex and Cade led the way, with the rest of us following closely. The air buzzed with excitement and trepidation.


    Beyond the darkness, a gray statue of cracked granite stood before a cliff, depicting a queen holding a glowing blue orb. Her eyes lit up as I touched the stone, and a card appeared before me.


    Waypoint - Floor 4


    You may now skip to floor 4 from the dungeon entrance.


    The rest of the party touched the statue, receiving their waypoints to floor 4. Beyond the statue, a winding trail descended into a maze of rocky chasms. From the cliff, we could see our path¡ªthrough the chasms to a bridge on the other side. Giant birds, harpies with humanoid faces, patrolled the cliffs.


    ¡°We can take them,¡± Alex said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.


    I checked my buff timers and said, ¡°Maybe next time. We¡¯ve got a waypoint now. Dinner should be ready soon.¡±


    We turned back, and I waited for everyone to ascend the stairway before following.


    We received two copper coins each from Sophie, for our copper weapons supplied to the village. Sophie wanted to speak with me after, but I was too busy.


    For dinner, I enjoyed the cod caught by the fishers that I roasted for myself. It felt wrong not to cook for everyone, but the dungeon had consumed my time.


    Roast Azure Reach Cod - F


    Cod¡¯s Fisheye - Grants vision underwater - 1 hour


    I saved the rest of my cod for the smoker, appreciating the buff¡¯s power.


    Wonderful. I could now dive for lobster and sea urchins.

 Chapter 35

    Chapter 35


    Astrid


    Day 25


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    I wandered over to the outhouse as the morning sun began to rise, ready to start my daily routine of tending to the hives. With the help of Bianca and Orion, we made three clay hives, and using two and a half clay jars, I harvested some honey. I gave one jar and several blocks of honeycomb to the warehouse, and in exchange, they compensated me with three copper coins. I saved the other jars for myself and brewed some firecracker tea, drizzling the freshly harvested honey into it.


    After that, I headed to the farm and mess hall with a basket to collect trimmings for the pig feed. I gathered peels, fish heads, fruit rinds, cores, and stalks, wrapping it all in wild grass before placing it in the pigs'' clay feeding bowl. My little piglets had grown quickly¡ªfrom the size of guinea pigs, they were now about as big as raccoons.


    In the forest, I dug up some worms with a rock and mixed them with berries to feed my scarlet fowl chicks. They were also growing fast, with red feathers beginning to appear in their yellow down.


    From the area where Slate was clearing acres of trees, I gathered sticks, bark, and various woody plants to put in the elk calves'' pen. After filling a large watering pot from the river, I topped off their water bowl.


    The elk calves were growing rapidly, but paced restlessly, their heads drooping low. They barely ate when I offered them a green fruit, and they even shied away from their water bowl. When I tried to lasso one for a walk, it resisted, scared to leave the pen.


    Elk are herd animals, and these poor creatures aren¡¯t adjusting well to being alone. They had been separated from their family.


    During a talk with Bianca, she mentioned it would take a month to prepare for their trip to the nearest town. I knew I needed to get my elk some company, so I had to speak to HIM again.


    My hands clenched into fists as I thought about asking him for help again. Why did it always have to be him? I hated relying on him. But my babies were lonely.


    ¡°They¡¯re herd animals. We need to breed them anyway, so why not capture some more?¡± I said to the cook, who was chopping up live lobsters into segments and tossing them into a copper wok.


    How the heck did he get lobsters? Mmm... they smelled amazing.


    By midday, a line had formed at Orion¡¯s stall. He set out six plates on a plank in front of where he was cooking. On his massive cutting board, he chopped wild garlic, some fragrant yellow root, and long, flat chives. He threw all the ingredients into the wok. A Firewielder card appeared in his hand, and flames wrapped around the wok as he tossed the ingredients in the air. The scent of lobster, garlic, and green onions filled the air, making everyone¡¯s mouth water. Mushrooms and some leafy green that looked like spinach went in last, along with another cube of pork tallow.


    Two plates of wild garlic lobster stir fry were served, and the two people at the front of the line each paid two coppers. This process repeated twice more until all the plates were gone, and Orion finally gave me his attention, pocketing the coins.


    Orion gave me a sidelong glance, his lips curling in a small smile. ¡°I¡¯ll do it, but I expect to be paid.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already getting a mount!¡± I was starting to get annoyed.


    Pay me this, pay me that. I was already working hard enough, and he was making plenty of money from his cooking and dungeon runs. I give him a pot of honey every week, and now I had to train his mount too. And now he wanted more?


    Why I oughta...


    ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. I just want you to figure out how to make increase milk production from the elk. I¡¯ll pay for the milk, but you¡¯ve got that skill for selectively breeding animals, right?¡± Orion said with a greedy smile as he cleaned his station.


    ¡°Yes¡­¡±


    ¡°Okay then. Breed them so the bulls are good for riding and the cows are good for milk.¡±


    ¡°I guess I can do that¡­ but you¡¯ll need more female elk if you want a decent milk supply,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯ll bring my brother to help,¡± Orion said, tightening his apron.


    When Orion invited his younger brother, Cass, to join us on the trip, Cass freaked out and ran over immediately. He had been in the middle of foraging berries with Anika and Aaliyah, but he dropped everything to come along.


    Before we set out, Orion grabbed several lengths of rope from the warehouse and asked Cass to gather rocks. Orion paid three coppers for the rope, which Larry, the warehouse manager retrieved from storage. The warehouse operated like a library, lending out items with the promise of getting coppers back when items were returned or replenished. When Larry handed Orion the rope, their awkwardness rekindled a possibly old drama.


    At the front of the warehouse was a stockpile yard full of raw material that everyone was free to use that Slate had gathered. I saw several children run up to grab small pieces of planks and other pieces of wood before retreating into the shade of the trees nearby where an elderly woman sat and babysat them.


    The children of the village had this new hobby of carving tiny wooden figurines into animals, which the elderly teacher, I think her name was Kathy, instructed them to do as a fun activity under close supervision. They chiseled the wood with obsidian knives donated to them, using rocks as hammers. Where they sat in the shade of the grass, tiny wooden figurines of horses and dogs littered the ground like toy soldiers.


    The warehouse was at the heart of Thornhill, and like its heart people came to supply themselves there either by using the supplies left for free in the stockpile or withdrawing them from the warehouse. Like my busy bees in my hives, people buzzed around with activity. Molvin, the town carpenter, looted the carpentry supplies from the ship and was busy making cabinets for people who were willing to pay him the steep price of 5 coppers, taking pieces of Slate-sawed planks for his projects. Marek and his sons were wheelbarrowing gravel dug out of his home and then two workers, Michael and Gabriel would take the gravel to build the base of our main road that stretched from the Beach Shelter to the River Shelter.


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    Later, when Cass came back with rocks of a suitable size, Orion used his Crafting skill to make bolas, tying rocks to the ends of each cord. Cass copied his technique, and together they made three bolas. Orion handed me one to inspect.


    Bola - D


    Deals 20% less damage to animals


    Orion planted wooden sticks in a line for us to practice on. Both brothers were naturals at it. I knew Orion had a throwing skill from his knife-throwing skills, but I couldn¡¯t explain how Cass was so good at it. After about an hour of practice, I gained Level 1 in Throwing Weapons and was getting closer to hitting my target. Orion took my bola away, saying he would handle the two we needed since he didn¡¯t think I was ready to use it on the elk.


    Before we left, Orion made a double-lasso from more rope, intending to capture two calves and drag them back.


    With food, rope, bags, and our bolas ready, we headed north toward the elk watering hole.


    On the way, Cass and Aja were inseparable. Aja was protective of the young boy. It was hard to believe Cass and Orion were related¡ªCass was bright and inquisitive, while Orion was intense and focused. Sometimes Cass would disappear into the forest and return with bugs for me to identify. He also pointed out honeybee nests, knowing I would find them useful and wasp nests for me to avoid.


    One thing Cass loved was watching me use my abilities to identify creatures.


    ¡°Look, Astrid! These caterpillars eat leaves and turn into moths,¡± Cass said, showing me a gray worm.


    I pulled out my Animal Keeper card and used Identify on the caterpillar.


    Ribbon Moth Larvae


    Meat - F


    Dye - F


    Other Products - Silk (C)


    ¡°Silk¡­¡± I murmured. ¡°Cass, can you find more of these?¡±


    ¡°Really? You think they''re useful?¡± Cass¡¯s wide eyes sparkled with amazement as he stared down at his find.


    ¡°I think they¡¯re silkworms. We could probably start a silk farm.¡±


    Cass immediately disappeared into the woods, leaving Orion to look on in frustration. But before he could get too upset, Cass returned. Orion pulled a jar from his bag, ate something from it, and then handed the empty jar to Cass. Cass carefully placed several leaves and worms inside, leaving the lid slightly ajar before handing it to me. Aja barked as if to thank him for me, and I playfully pinched Cass''s cheeks, making him pout in annoyance.


    At the watering hole, we found a herd of elk numbering in the forties. It was calving season, so there were plenty of young elk calves to choose from. I felt guilty about taking calves from their mothers, but it was necessary if we wanted more elk for breeding and companionship.


    Near the water¡¯s edge, four calves nibbled at the weeds, their small heads bobbing in unison, unaware of the world around them. A nervous cow lifted her head, ears twitching as she scanned the surroundings, while a bull grazed a few paces away.


    ¡°Can your dog herd?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°So so. She¡¯s been practicing with the piglets and has gotten better,¡± I replied.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need her to herd the calves toward us so we can bola two of them. Cass¡­¡± Orion whispered, signaling his brother, who looked ready for action. ¡°Sling a rock at the mother and the bull, try to separate them from the calves. Don¡¯t hurt them¡ªjust a pinch on the backside.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Cass said, pulling his sling from his back pocket.


    Following the plan, I circled the watering hole with Aja. We startled the elk, pushing them toward Orion and Cass. Cass slung a rock that struck the cow on the rear, causing it to buck and bolt past us. Another rock hit the bull¡¯s antlers, sending him charging west toward the hills. The confused calves ran toward the dense forest, right where Orion and Cass were waiting.


    Cass and Orion threw their bolas, entangling the legs of one calf, causing it to stumble and fall. The other calf turned sharply, trying to escape, but Orion quickly reached for another bola. He missed, but Cass reloaded his sling and struck the calf¡¯s front legs. The young elk whined in pain before tripping and landing on its face.


    Orion lassoed the fallen calf and dragged it over to its restrained sibling. With a double-ended lasso, they tied both calves together. I hurried over to calm the babies down, using my Charm Animal skill to soothe their panic. Once they were settled, Orion untied them, confident they were calm enough to handle.


    The four of us then worked to get the calves back on their feet and started leading them toward camp. The one Cass had hit with his sling was limping, struggling to navigate the uneven ground.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Cass said, noticing my concern. ¡°I had no choice¡ªit was going to get away.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Cass. We can fix it up,¡± I said with a reassuring smile.


    ¡°It¡¯s a male, so it might not be good for riding anymore. We might have to put it down. Could make some good elk veal,¡± Orion remarked casually.


    ¡°No!¡± I shouted, punching him in the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll get Ethan to look at it.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a doctor, not a vet,¡± Orion grumbled.


    ¡°And you¡¯re a butcher, not an animal keeper,¡± I shot back.


    We slowly made our way back to camp, with Aja herding the new calves into their pen. When the elk noticed the newcomers, their ears perked up, and they quickly came over to sniff them.


    After Orion and Cass left, I asked around for Ethan. When he arrived, he carefully examined the injured elk, tossing a card onto its leg to assess the damage.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a fracture,¡± Ethan said after a moment. ¡°We¡¯ll need to splint it. Keep the calf off its legs so it can heal.¡±


    Ethan gathered some sticks and fashioned a simple splint. He then used Anesthetic Touch on the restless elk to put it to sleep, and with my help, he applied a poultice and tied the splint in place.


    Ethan adjusted his glasses, his hand lingering on the calf¡¯s leg with a careful gentleness.


    ¡°Try to keep it from moving too much,¡± he said, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. ¡°Tie it to a fence or a stake to limit its movement.¡±


    ¡°Thank you so much. I know you¡¯re not a vet, but really, thank you,¡± I said. My face felt flush.


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem,¡± Ethan blurted, finding it hard to make eye contact with me.


    ¡°Here,¡± I said, handing him the jar of honey I¡¯d harvested, still half-full. ¡°Consider this payment.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­ is this honey? You didn¡¯t have to,¡± he said, sniffing the jar.


    ¡°No, I like really... I appreciate it. It¡¯s nice to know some people around here care about animals.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡± Ethan stammered. ¡°I mean, I do eat animals. I just prefer they don¡¯t suffer before¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, me too,¡± I laughed lightly. ¡°I just meant like treating them kindly.¡±


    ¡°O-okay,¡± Ethan said, nodding awkwardly before making his exit.


    As Ethan¡¯s figure got smaller in the distance, I let out a heavy sigh.

 Chapter 36

    Chapter 36


    Bianca


    Day 27


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    Our little village has been busy the past few days. After completing the well, the next projects were building walls for the mess hall and refurbishing our current shelters. The shelter burden eased a bit more once Marek finally finished the first floor of his house and moved his family into their new home. Besides that, some of the more adventurous villagers were moving into the pirate ship quarters.


    The refurbishment of the shelters included adding a stone hearth to each shelter and wooden partitions to give people privacy. Every shelter was reinforced with daub to keep out vermin and insulate against the elements. The tanners were busy finishing and selling rugs and blankets to add more comfort. The village air was thick with the scent of cured leather and furs and the faint scrape of wood being sanded.


    We finally had a carpenter in our group, Molvin. He wasn¡¯t formally trained, but he was a regular DIY addict who did carpentry as a hobby in his garage back home. He quickly got to work making cabinets, chairs, and shelves for the group, which we installed in the shelters. Molvin¡¯s hands were often busy carving new shelves or chairs, and his grin grew wider with each copper he pocketed. Soon, he was bartering for extra rations and trading his coin in for more blankets and game meat.


    People started getting a sense of what it was like to have property, and they wanted more of it. They wanted places to store personal things like soap, coins, bags, and other possessions. Sophie said this was good since materialism encouraged people to work harder to buy more things.


    During lunch, we held a mini-town meeting to discuss the next project: the watermill. Marek only had a vague idea of how to build one, so I asked the villagers if anyone knew the schematics. Surprisingly, it turned out to be easier than expected. We would construct a wheel with paddles in moving water and attach an axle to a millstone. In the past few days, Slate had been cranking out wooden planks and preparing the foundation for the watermill.


    Ten villagers came out to help, including Cade, Marek, Ethan, Alex, two blacksmiths, our new carpenter Molvin, and Anika, and an old retired teacher Kathy providing technical assistance.


    Once we picked a spot upstream with good water flow, we headed to the lumberyard to gather materials for the waterwheel and axle. Molvin was in charge of crafting the wheel and paddles, while Slate worked on the grindstone. Slate lifted a huge boulder, then smoothed it out with a copper hammer and the help of the blacksmith duo, BJ, who used chisels.


    Marek and a group of helpers, including Alex and Cade, started constructing the house attached to the mill that would house the grindstone and hopper.


    As I watched Alex and Cade carry lumber together, their Class-boosted strength assisting them, laughing and trading jokes, I felt a swell of pride. Many villagers stopped by to offer their support or help, fetching planks of wood or food for the workers. There was a proper sense of community as everyone lent a hand, some advice, and a smile.


    By sunset, the wheel was in place, and the main shaft was attached to the pinwheel. When the water started turning the wheel, everyone gathered and did what Americans do best. We clapped and cheered like it was the Fourth of July.


    ¡°HELL YEAH!¡±


    ¡°WATER POWER, BABY!¡±


    ¡°THORNHILL FOREVER!¡±


    The next day, farmers like James, Samar, Lu Yi, and her daughter carried jars of wheat berries to the hopper and tossed them in. I offered extra coins to anyone who helped with the harvesting and processing of wheat. The grain was ground into coarse flour in minutes, which flowed down into empty sacks. Thornhill finally had flour.


    That night, Herman and his team of fishers returned with their catch, and we all helped gut and clean the fish. Blunt candles made out of wax and tallow were prepared on the table alongside plates. Tortillas were being made from the freshly milled flour, and Orion battered the fish with the new flour and fried it in oil. Gladys was filleting elk steak off a massive old bull the size of a moose that Orion took down, seasoning it with salt and herbs. Vesper, another food worker, was making a salsa verde using gathered green fruit and chopped-up wild herbs. It was taco night, with a choice of fish or elk steak tacos.


    In large clay pots, we mixed freshly filtered water, sweet berry wine courtesy of Father Gallagher, honey thanks to Astrid, and some picked mint leaves. A non-alcoholic version using green fruit juice was made for our non-drinkers and children.


    The mess hall buzzed with merriment and song. It seemed we had a lot of John Denver fans, as Gabriel led us in singing ¡°Take Me Home, Country Roads¡± and ¡°Leaving on a Jet Plane.¡± Tipsy on berry wine, the villagers joined in, slurring the words or humming through the parts they¡¯d forgotten, bursting into laughter when the lyrics turned into a jumbled mess of hums.


    It was a good time, and while they partied, I prepared Slate for his next task: building a church.


    We had plenty of volunteers, including Marek, to help with the church. Marek was transitioning from being a government contractor to becoming an independent builder. He hadn¡¯t earned much recently since he was focused on his own house, relying instead on Roza¡¯s seamstress business. I made an informal deal to pay him 5 copper credits for each day he worked.


    A few days later, the church, a small wooden plank building with a simple gable roof, was finished, and we held our first service.


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    I attended, along with two dozen or so other Christians in the community, including Herman, Sophie, and Marek¡¯s family. James showed up too, though I suspected he was more interested in Father Gallagher¡¯s wine. Surprisingly, Orion came as well, sitting in the back.


    ¡°Good day, fellow villagers,¡± Father Gallagher began. ¡°I want you all to know, regardless of your denomination or even religion, I will focus on what binds us, not what divides us. We must be united despite our spiritual differences, especially in these trying times. This church will never turn anyone away nor compel the villagers to conform to its doctrines. Instead, it will be a place of connection, a place to learn from each other, and a place to heal.


    My hope for this church is that it encourages compassion, unity, and fellowship.


    So, for my first sermon, I think it¡¯s fitting to talk about the importance of community. It is one of the central themes of the Holy Book. Though we don¡¯t have a copy of the Bible with us, I can recite Acts 2:42 from memory...¡±


    At the end of the service, a collection plate was passed around, and we all contributed one copper credit.


    ¡°So¡­ I thought you were against this place, Rye?¡± I smiled at Orion, who dropped a copper into the plate.


    ¡°It¡¯s an important event for the village, and I figured I should be here for the opening at least,¡± Orion shrugged, his voice laced with weariness. ¡°Just as boring as I remembered.¡±


    When Holy Communion was offered, most non-Catholics declined, but James eagerly volunteered. Father Gallagher smiled as he gave James the wine and wafer, made from our freshly milled flour.


    After the service, Father Gallagher approached Orion and asked how he liked it. Orion replied sarcastically that he¡¯d burn the place down if the Father started any crusades or inquisitions. The priest laughed heartily, not taking offense, telling Orion to come back and confess his sins sometime, which elicited an eye roll from Orion.


    Then Father Gallagher came over to me. ¡°Mayor Bianca, good to see you at the service. How did you find it?¡±


    ¡°I think it was exactly what we needed. Thank you, Father.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you for helping build the church. I knew God had a plan when He put us here, and He gave you Slate for a reason.¡± Father Gallagher smiled knowingly.


    ¡°Yes¡­¡± I replied, feeling unsure.


    I think it was more random luck than anything.


    Father Gallagher¡¯s hand slipped into a leather bag and handed me 50 coins¡ªsome from the collection and some from his alcohol sales. ¡°My first payment for the church.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I had forgotten about that. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should take the money, but Anika and Orion had insisted the church pay its dues. The money wouldn¡¯t go to my personal funds, but into the town¡¯s treasury.


    ¡°I just want you to know I¡¯m open to offering penance. If you ever need to reconcile with God, don¡¯t hesitate to ask,¡± Father Gallagher said warmly, patting my shoulder.


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it, Father,¡± I said, forcing a smile. Deep down, the thought of penance felt foreign¡ªlike a burden I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge just yet.


    With the completion of the church and the first service, I felt something deep inside and pulled out my Founder class card to see it had leveled up to level 8. Only two more levels until level 10 and I get a new ability.


    The days passed, and I spent most of my time making fine pottery, as Sophie suggested. I focused on crafting teacups and teapots. After glazing my latest batch, I checked to see if any had received a C-grade. One of my teapots, a classic round gourd shape, looked promising. I examined the information card that popped up:


    Teapot of Revitalization - C


    Tea brewed in this teapot restores a moderate amount of energy.


    Finally, I had my second C-grade pot. The first one I made for Orion seemed like a fluke, but now I had another.


    After finishing the pots, my Pottery skill leveled up to six, presenting me with three options:


    Tea Master - C


    Teapots and accessories you make are a grade higher and sell for more.


    Plate Juggler - C


    The edges of the plates are you craft are sharper, and the plates are harder to break.


    Kintsugi - C


    Requires less gold to repair pottery.


    Kintsugi looked tempting, but I chose Tea Master. Sophie, James, and Orion were heading off on a trade mission soon, and I needed to make better tea sets to boost our trade goods. I believed this skill would benefit Thornhill, but I also wanted something of my own¡ªsomething beyond just having a powerful familiar in Slate.


    I thought about the dreams everyone in the village had. Orion wanted to open a tavern. Alex wanted to be the strongest person in the world. Ethan wanted to start a teaching clinic. Anika wanted to open an apothecary. Herman wanted to catch a swordfish. Bart and Jesus wanted to start an armory. Marek wanted to build a huge mansion for his family. Astrid wanted her animals to be known worldwide. Sophie wanted to be rich. And so on.


    Everyone had dreams, and with Slate¡¯s help, I hoped to help them achieve those dreams. But I had my own dream too. I wanted to open a teashop, selling tea supplies and specialty teas, and hope that it would export and import the finest teas and teaware from across the realm.


    It was the one thing I wanted for myself, to be important for more than just having a powerful familiar. My skill in making teaware would be sought out throughout the village and hopefully the world.


    For that, we needed a port and trade goods.


    I examined the first teapot I created after reaching level six and my Tea Master skill:


    Terracotta Teapot of Luxury - C


    This teapot has twice the trade value and boosts the atmosphere of any display chest it is placed in.


    When I showed Sophie the C-grade teapot I had made, she smiled ravenously, sending chills down my spine, and asked a simple question:


    ¡°Can you make more?¡±

 Chapter 37

    Chapter 37


    Orion


    Day 30


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    Our dungeon-diving team had become a stable unit. Alex and Cade led the charge, while Sasha and I guarded the rear. Bart flanked just behind the vanguard, and Aiden served as our runner, retrieving loot and returning it to the village.


    Yesterday, I informed the crew that we would run one more time from floors 1 to 3 before moving on to floor 4.


    There was one special challenge for this run: my decision to add my younger brother, Cass. I hadn''t mentioned it to the council or the party until the last moment. I knew people would view it as nepotism and reckless, but I believed Cass would benefit from joining us and gaining valuable experience in ensuring his safety. Cass needed to be able to defend himself after I left for the trade expedition.


    Wanting him to get a good rest, I informed Cass about it on the day of the excursion, rather than letting him worry or fret overnight.


    ¡°NO WAY!¡± he said, eyes widening.


    My younger brother had grown significantly. His growth spurt was in full swing, and now he was only a foot shorter than me. It was harder to treat him like a kid.


    ¡°Stick close, use your sling from a distance. You¡¯ll be right between me and Bart. Just follow my lead, okay?¡± I instructed firmly.


    He nodded obediently, standing determined, like a veteran soldier before deployment. ¡°Whatever you say, Rye. I won¡¯t get hurt. I won¡¯t screw this up.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t reveal your class. Only use your abilities in a life-or-death situation, got it?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. Rye, trust me. I won¡¯t be stupid.¡±


    ¡°Sooner or later people will know you have a class. Just say you¡¯re a warrior or ranger or something,¡± I said.


    ¡°I know, Rye. I understand how important this is,¡± Cass replied with a tone of pure professionalism. He knew I would kick him out immediately if he messed up. He wanted this badly.


    ¡°Okay, let me know your combat abilities,¡± I ordered. In the forest, where we talked alone, he revealed all his combat cards to me:


    The Anti Mage - Level 3


    Void Field - S: Creates a field that disables magic in your area. The area grows larger as you level up.


    Sling - 3


    Deadly Shot: Increases the chance to deal a critical strike with a projectile


    Crafting - 2


    Throwing Weapons - 2


    Stealth - 1


    Gather - 1


    He had been working hard. With level 3 in both his class and Sling, he should be as strong as Bart and stronger than Sasha, who hadn¡¯t received a class yet. I shouldn¡¯t worry too much about how he would perform in the dungeon, especially with the group guarding him.


    Am I really doing the right thing?


    ¡°Stay behind Alex and Cade and use your sling. I¡¯ll guard your back. If any enemies get close, use your sword.¡±


    He nodded, and we prepared ourselves. I handed him a pirate cutlass, it was the lightest sword we had. Our preparations were completed with Anika¡¯s latest creation, which she gave me for free in exchange for the purple flowers I harvested on floor three of the dungeon.


    Lesser Healing Potion - D


    Heals a small amount of health


    The potion was in a familiar glass tube. The liquid inside was bright red and smelled like peppermint mouthwash, with hints of stale wine.


    When we arrived at the meeting place, my decision to bring Cass surprised the other members of the dungeon party. Alex gave Cass a thumbs-up and high-fived him, but Sasha looked annoyed.


    ¡°Whoa, are you sure about this, Orion? I mean, he¡¯s kinda young. Do we want another Bryden situation on our hands?¡± Cade asked with hesitation.


    ¡°We¡¯re much better than we were before. I wouldn¡¯t do this if I didn¡¯t think it was best for him,¡± I said.


    ¡°The more, the merrier,¡± Bart said cheerfully.


    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t double dip with the loot,¡± Aiden shook his head.


    ¡°He¡¯ll carry my loot. We¡¯ll still split it six ways,¡± I said.


    ¡°I won¡¯t slow you guys down,¡± Cass added confidently.


    ¡°If he gets hurt, you better not blame any of us, Orion,¡± Sasha said with annoyance and turned away, the rest of us following.


    The pattern of the first floor of the dungeon was clear. We went directly to the boss and easily dispatched it with our usual technique. Cass joined our volley of projectiles with his sling, and I had no worries about this stage.


    The second stage was smooth sailing. We made a beeline to the altar room, where I easily took down the orc boss before the gremlins started rushing us. By then, our party was cutting through them like a lawnmower. One gremlin locked eyes on Cass, but he swiftly took it out with a rock slung straight at its face, while I stood beside him like a supervisor.


    To his credit, Cass showed no fear. His hands were steady, reminding me of when we used to play games on the couch. I would always beat him, but he was so focused, his body hunched forward, rarely saying anything. He rarely let his guard down and was constantly on high alert.


    When the last few remaining gremlins in the throne room rushed us, Alex unleashed a Holy Strike but realized it only produced a vertical slash of air rather than light. Confused, he shook his sword as if it ran out of batteries. I nodded at Cass, who discreetly turned off his Void Sphere. Later, another Holy Strike emerged slicing the last remaining gremlin in half, this time it was illuminated by blinding holy light. After looting the dead, we proceeded to the Jester¡¯s room.


    No major purchases at the Jester¡¯s room, except for Sasha, who bought a Token of Bravery, knowing we were moving to a new level today. Something was left unspoken between the serious dungeon divers, we were all saving Jester coins for the next store, for the next-level items.


    ¡°Take Cass back up and make sure he gets back to the village,¡± I told Aiden, who held three copper weapons in his bag. ¡°Cass, if you come back down, I¡¯ll make sure you never return.¡±


    Aiden nodded, gave Cass an apologetic shrug, and said, ¡°Come on, big guy.¡±


    The two disappeared up the stairs with Cass sulking all the way up, my eyes on him like a hawk. When he disappeared, our party went down to the third floor.


    The swamp floor was a breeze, just like the previous runs. We bypassed the side towers and headed straight for the final tower. As we descended the stairs, we prepared for the boss fight. I tossed two clay Molotovs at the giant frog, igniting it. The flaming monster leaped high, but I backstepped, and the others scattered in unison. After it crashed down, we unleashed a barrage of attacks: a Spear Flurry and Holy Strike, while Sasha and I kept firing from a distance.


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    The frog reared back, preparing to spit. We huddled behind Cade, who activated his Guard''s Shield, deflecting the venom. The green liquid slid harmlessly away from us, like oil on water. Bart charged forward, his war hammer crashing into the frog''s legs. The beast howled in pain, its purple blood splattering everywhere. A barrage of arrows and knives tore into its hide, leaving deep wounds that oozed dark fluid.


    When the frog leaped again, though weaker this time, we scattered and regrouped behind Cade. He shielded us from the poison spit with his Guard¡¯s Shield. A final volley of attacks brought the frog down in a slimy, bloody heap.


    Only four hours had passed when we reached the 4th floor and the waystone once again.


    Beyond the waystone, a rocky trail descended into maze-like canyons. I trailed the group, surveying the path ahead as they forged onward. The four ahead were chatting and laughing about their adventures so far. Alex had pulled out a piece of dried fish and was chewing on it, while Cade was sipping from his waterskin. I reminded myself that our success shouldn''t lead to complacency. This would be a real test, as it always was the first time around.


    Our party got plenty of "rest." Sure, we were working hard in the real world, but our wounds were healed, our muscles were refreshed, and our energy was off the charts. We were itching for a challenge.


    The canyon was a narrow, jagged chasm, its walls scarred by time. Sparse vegetation dotted the sandy floor, and harpies perched on the cliffs like vultures, eyeing us from above. The terrain was treacherous, with gravel, boulders, and sand making it difficult to navigate.


    When our party entered the canyon, the harpies on the cliffs were nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Let¡¯s be careful. They¡¯re probably waiting for us to let our guard down before they descend,¡± I said, squinting at the cliffs.


    I didn¡¯t like this situation one bit.


    Within minutes of walking, we reached a narrowing path¡ªan opening about a yard thick that led to a wider canyon pathway. We all stopped to wait. The pathway was so narrow that only one of us could pass through at a time; it stretched about 10 yards before opening into the wide clearing.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said to Cade before he could squeeze through.


    I peered through the opening and saw a flicker of movement in the brush on the cliffs.


    ¡°They¡¯re waiting for us beyond this to ambush us. They want us separated,¡± I warned, my voice low and tense.


    Sasha bit her lip and asked, ¡°Now what?¡±


    ¡°We have to look for another way or turn back.¡±


    At my suggestion, they all groaned in disagreement.


    I hated playing party pooper, but this was life or death.


    ¡°It¡¯s just harpies. They can¡¯t be tougher than those crocodiles,¡± Alex said, his brow furrowing. ¡°Let me go out first.¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± Sasha said, handing Alex her Token of Bravery.


    Alex would be a good test for measuring the harpies'' capabilities, but I had my doubts. We had no idea what these harpies could do.


    ¡°Cade, guard our backs. I¡¯ll head out right behind Alex,¡± I said giving in to peer pressure.


    I have to have confidence in our group.


    Cade was probably our second strongest after Alex in terms of raw power. Once resembling a Black Mr. Clean, he now sported a long, Thor-like beard. He''d always been tall, but now he¡¯d bulked up, fully embracing the look of a classic tank with his bronze armor set, spear, and shield.


    If Sasha could get a class, she had the drive to become someone not to take lightly and Bart was getting more comfortable crushing enemies beneath his hammer.


    We needed to get stronger. There had to be some risks, but they had to be calculated. Floor 20. The others in this world were hovering around that level. We needed to get stronger.


    Angling our bodies to pass through, Alex led the way first into the clearing. A piercing caw echoed out from the cliffs, followed by the emergence of three harpies from the bushes, their powerful eagle-like wings flapping wildly. Their menacing red eyes and porcelain face masks made them look like flying witches.


    One dove towards Alex with its talons out. I hurried my way into the clearing to support him. Alex drove the creature back with a Holy Strike, but the harpy dodged with a quick barrel roll. Another harpy came down, dodging one of my throwing knives. It was hard enough aiming on flat ground but factoring in their swooping dives made it even trickier. Now three harpies were grabbing Alex at once, and he flailed in the air.


    Alex''s marble, which he had been clutching tightly, slipped from his grasp as the harpies seized his arms and lifted him skyward. His sword clattered to the ground as their talons dug into his forearms, causing him to cry out in agony.


    Shortly after, Bart and Sasha burst through the clearing. I took aim at one of the harpies, firing my Deadly Shot as they hoisted Alex higher. The arrow struck home, freeing one of Alex''s arms. Sasha followed suit, aiming her crossbow at the other harpy''s leg but hitting its thigh instead. Alex frantically pounded the harpy''s legs with his free arm, forcing it to release him.


    As Alex crashed to the ground, he unleashed a ferocious roar and snatched up his sword. A whirlwind of steel erupted as he engaged the harpies in a frenzied clash. With a battle cry, Alex activated his Cyclone Slash skill, transforming into a spinning vortex of razor-sharp blades. The harpies shrieked in terror, their wings flailing wildly as the relentless maelstrom of his attack hurled them back.


    Bart, now a level three Path of Warhammer warrior, unleashed his "Hammer Boomerang" skill. His warhammer whirled through the air like a deadly fan, striking a harpy squarely in the head before returning to his hand. The harpy shrieked in pain, its skull broken and its flight unsteady.


    Cade was through the clearing now, but he wasn¡¯t the only one who joined the battle. Three more harpies, including a unique purple one, materialized on the cliff ledges.


    I sprinted for the Token of Bravery Alex had dropped, fearing the worst. If things turned sour, I¡¯d have to play distraction.


    A harpy with bright purple feathers stood out amidst the plain, dirt-colored ones. A glowing blue card hovered before it, and it unleashed a piercing screech that summoned a miniature tornado. The twister wreaked havoc on our party, hurling Alex and Sasha back toward the narrow gap entrance.


    "Get back to the exit! We have to retreat!" I shouted, feeling the air thicken as sand pelted my face. I readied my accuracy knife and took aim at the purple harpy, firing a deadly shot between its eyes. The harpy tumbled to the ground, where Bart pummeled it with his hammer.


    Sasha and Cade were the first to reach the exit, with Alex not ready to give up the fight. I grabbed Alex by the collar and hauled him back, just as more harpies materialized on the ledges. In the distance, a colossal cyclops lumbered toward us, casting a long, ominous shadow.


    ¡°Go back!¡± I commanded the party. ¡°I¡¯ll distract them.¡±


    I dug into my pack for a piece of pemmican before charging towards the harpies circling the passage. Their predatory instincts were clear as they targeted stragglers. Adrenaline and fear coursed through my veins. I was uncertain if the marble would actually work and knew I might have to fight my way out if worst came to worst.


    Their eyes were locked on me, their screeches echoing through the canyon. With a quick glance, I confirmed the party''s safety. I slipped into the shadows, activating my Shadow Walk and racing towards the opposite path from where the cyclops was heading, five harpies in pursuit.


    One harpy spotted me and swooped down, but I brushed aside its attack using my Parry skill, stunning the creature before my stiletto pierced its skull. Its death cry alerted two more harpies, so I took no chances and tossed down the Token of Bravery.


    Blue light engulfed me. I flinched as talons reached for my face, but I teleported to safety just before the dungeon doors. The party hadn''t returned yet, and I checked my skills to find I was now Level 4 in Path of the Dagger. A few minutes later, the rest of the party caught up with me, emerging from the door with visible relief.


    ¡°You guys alright?¡± I asked.


    They were drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, and doubled over, struggling to recover from the ordeal.


    It was around five when we returned to the village. I dove for some scallops, taking advantage of the cod fish buff. Our party, including our newest member, gathered to prepare the food. Cass collected wild garlic and herbs. Sasha boiled potatoes. Alex prepared a watered-down mead with filtered water and fruits. I added bone marrow to the potatoes, mashing them with garlic and herbs. Unfortunately, my sourdough starter still wasn¡¯t ready yet.


    Garlic and Herb Mashed Potatoes - D


    Potato Power Increased recovery of stamina for 3 hours


    We sat around the table, laughing and talking about our adventures, eating family-style. I felt content.


    It¡¯d be great if I had a tavern to hang out at after tower dives.


    After dinner, I had two things to do. First, a Lokan language lesson with Sophie and James. Being around James gave me a Polygrot skill that allowed me to learn foreign languages faster.


    The second thing was to check on Rudolph.


    Astrid was brushing her pigs when I arrived at the animal pens. They were now the size of wine casks, solid and robust. The hen coop was finally built, and the scarlet fowl chicks were sporting their vibrant red feathers. There was still an absence of eggs.


    Rudolph and the other young elk were in a separate part of the pen. My prospective mount was about the size of a small donkey, with tiny nub antlers. Astrid had me bond with him, to familiarize myself with the animal. James and Sophie would have morning training sessions while I had mine at night.


    I approached the skittish animal, with Astrid calming the young elk bull. As I mounted him, Astrid guided the reins, and we gently sauntered around the pen. Since my weight would become too much for him after a while, we planned to rest and feed him before continuing. We would follow this routine for a few days before I set out on my own.

 Chapter 38

    Chapter 38


    Astrid


    Day 35


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    My small animal nursery was beginning to feel like a miniature zoo. The elk, now as large as deer, were thriving under my care. Orion''s mount, Rudolph¡ªthe largest of the group and the size of a donkey¡ªhad formed a strong bond with his rider, Orion. My Animal Keeper skills significantly sped up their development. Curious, I used my Animal Keeper skill on Rudolph, revealing his stats.


    Elk Yearling


    Domestication - 40%


    Riding - D


    Meat - D


    Fur - F


    Leather - D


    Other products - Gelatin (F), Adhesive (F), Sinew (F)


    Aja, now nearly a month old and the size of a pitbull, accompanied me as we herded the elk to a grazing area near our clay beehives. While the elk grazed, I harvested honeycomb from the hives. Orion frequently visited to check on Rudolph and take him for a ride. They would often disappear for extended periods. James had also taken Comet, the other male elk, out occasionally but he didn''t venture far from the animal pens. Equipped with saddles crafted from leather by Roza, our seamstress, the two were becoming skilled riders.


    My mount was one of two elk cows out of our five elk, Olive. She was smaller than the two bulls and struggled with my weight; we rode at a soft canter. After my first attempt at riding her, I received a Riding skill card. The newest elk in our herd were not ready to be ridden yet. I had already planned on naming them Dasher and Vixen.


    Upon returning to the pens with the other elk, Aja herding them from behind, I found Ruth sweeping them. Ruth was the helper Bianca had assigned to assist me with daily chores. She earned three coppers daily for her work. Like her, many others offered their services throughout the community in exchange for coppers. Ruth was previously washing people''s clothes, but the competition for such work was intense.


    ¡°Good morning, Ruth. Was just taking Olive and the other elk out to graze,¡± I said with a cheerful smile.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the other one? Didn¡¯t you have five?¡± Ruth asked, her brow furrowing.


    ¡°Orion came by and took Rudolph. He¡¯ll be back.¡±


    At the name Orion, Ruth''s face contorted into a frown. It was clear they had bad blood between them.


    Despite losing her son, Ruth had improved remarkably in recent week working with me. She had lost weight due to the healthy, natural diet available here in Camp Thornhill along with the medicine Anika had prescribed. Her hair, once dyed a harsh neon red, had returned to its natural shade¡ªa soft brown streaked with gray at the roots.


    I must admit that I didn¡¯t think she had anything left in her after the loss of her son, but Ruth found a renewed purpose in raising animals.


    While Ruth set about gathering straw, I prepared a pot of tea for us both. When she returned, I handed her a steaming mug and reminded her to take her medicine.


    While watching me drizzle honey into my mug, Ruth asked, "Can you pour some of that into mine, dear? It might help the medicine go down easier."


    "Ruth, you know Ethan told you to be careful with the sugar," I gently reminded her.


    "Just a drop, dear. A tiny drop." Ruth pleaded.


    I sighed and poured a light drizzle of honey into her cup. She patted me on the shoulder and said, "You''re a peach, Astrid. A real peach. Why can''t the other kids be like you? You''re so hardworking and kind."


    After the break was over, we both worked on cleaning the coop and clearing the debris into a wood cart.


    ¡°I found some eggs!¡± Ruth exclaimed, her voice bright with excitement, reaching between one of the wooden roosting bars to pick up a pale blue egg, a little smaller than a regular chicken egg.


    ¡°We can¡¯t eat that yet. We¡¯ll let them hatch it. I think we should have like at least ten eggs incubated before we start harvesting eggs,¡± I said as Ruth put the egg back into the nestbox.


    I drew out my Selective Breeding card and activated it over the egg.


    Larger Eggs - D


    Eggs will be slightly larger


    Brighter Feathers - D


    Feathers will be brighter and higher quality


    Bigger Breasts - D


    Breast meat will be bigger and contain more protein


    I didn''t want my beautiful birds to be slaughtered into meat, at least not until they had long lives, so I picked Bigger Eggs.


    After cleaning the coops and pens, I brushed my animals down with a wood brush made of boar bristles. The blacksmiths had crafted a sturdy pair of shears, which I used to shear the wool off the fluffy boars. I couldn¡¯t afford this on my own, so the government of Thornhill funded it.


    I was able to sell some honeycomb to the village, but that wasn¡¯t a steady income. Until my boars and scarlet hens reproduced or produced eggs and wool at a steady rate, my income was nonexistent. So, the council had invested in tools for me and a new building that Slate created. It was a simple small log structure for now that had rows of trays containing silkworms.


    Earth silkworms typically ate mulberry leaves, but these preferred the banana leaves abundant around the camp. They weren''t particular about leaves, though, and also enjoyed flat palm leaves. One tray was beginning to cocoon, so instead of harvesting the cocoons immediately, I planned to farm the moths to produce more silkworms. Ruth and I collected more leaves for the worms to eat before heading to lunch.


    After lunch, I let Ruth ride Olive as we ventured deeper into the forest north. Our scouting mission was to find potential animals to capture and identify additional food sources for the boars. My goal was to eventually allow the boars and elk to roam freely and forage on wild plants, with Aja herding them.


    As we walked, the forest enveloped us in a symphony of nature. Birdsong filled the air, and the gentle breeze whispered through the leaves, creating a sense of peace and tranquility. It was as if we had stepped into a fairytale.


    On Olive, Ruth¡¯s shoulder was relaxed. She closed her eyes and inhaled the forest air, the scents of pine and sage creating a sense of zen. Beyond the forest, we reached a clearing and spotted a valley leading to a mountainous path. On the rocky cliffs, a pack of straw-colored wolves with distinctive black patches roamed, each wolf uniquely marked like a Rorschach blot. Aja stood guard in front of us, growling softly.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The wolves howled before vanishing, wary of human contact. A wolf pup remained on the cliff''s edge, its head tilted with curiosity. An elder wolf emerged from behind, carried the pup away by the scruff of its neck, and rejoined the retreating pack. I heard sniffling and glanced at Ruth, who was wiping away tears as she watched the wolves disappear.


    After which we turned and headed back to camp, we stumbled upon bushes bearing dark purple and red berries near the edge of the village. Tasting one, I found the flavor a delightful blend of grape and blueberry, the darker purple ones tasting extra sweet. Ruth and I gathered a bunch and placed them in Olive''s saddlebags. We hoped to sell them to the farmers or at a stall for some coppers.


    As we prepared to leave, we heard rustling in nearby bushes. A loud sniff emerged from the shadows, followed by heavy thudding. My heart pounded as a massive bear emerged. It was as large as a grizzly but with blackened crimson fur and white rings around its legs. Aja stood protectively between us, growling a warning at the bear, who roared back in response.


    Ruth and I saddled up Olive and urged the elk forward, but its pace was slow due to the added weight. The animal struggled with the two of us on its back. As if baited by our fear, the bear pursued us relentlessly, despite Aja nipping at its heels and barking fiercely.


    I¡¯m so sorry, Aja. I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m so sorry!


    ¡°HELP! Somebody help!¡± I screamed.


    We should be close to the outskirts of Thornhill. Somebody, please.


    The bear, growing increasingly frustrated with Aja''s relentless harassment, slashed at my familiar. Aja was knocked into a tree, bleeding heavily, unresponsive. A strangled cry escaped me as Aja¡¯s body dissolved into wisps of blue light. My heart was pounding, as the weight of her loss hit me. The bear continued its relentless pursuit, although at a slight limp, thanks to Aja.


    "We won''t make it back,¡± Ruth gasped, her voice trembling


    ¡°We have to sacrifice Olive,¡± I winced in pain, still grieving Aja. I couldn¡¯t lose another animal under my care, but... it was that, or we¡¯d both be bear food.


    ¡°No. It can have me. I have nothing to live for anymore,¡± Ruth whispered as she squeezed my back tightly as if it were her final farewell.


    ¡°RUTH, DON¡¯T!¡± My voice cracked as I screamed, watching her hurl herself off Olive.


    Ruth stumbled off Olive but quickly regained her footing. She held up her hands, waving them at the bear before running in the opposite direction, to divert its attention from me. I pulled on Olive to turn back, but the elk hesitated, reluctant to move back toward the bear.


    The bear quickly caught up with Ruth, who was out of breath. Ruth was on her knees, her eyes closed in resigned acceptance of her fate. A sad smile was on her face. I couldn¡¯t watch, so I closed my eyes too. A moment later, I heard the bear roar, and I assumed it was over.


    But then two new voices joined the fray. When I opened my eyes, I saw a bolt sticking out of the growling bear''s chest. It rose on two legs, roaring. Alex emerged from the woods, quickly positioning himself in front of Ruth. Sasha followed, reloading her crossbow. The fight was more like an execution as the bear was no match for Alex. The Hero swung his sword in a wide sweep and cleaved the head right off the bear.


    ¡°Are you alright, Ruth?¡± Alex asked. His voice seemed to be more delicate than usual as if he was talking with someone he respected. He came over to help the poor woman up but was rebuked.


    ¡°Get your hands off me!¡± Ruth gritted her teeth at Alex and Sasha. Neither got upset, but they looked down guiltily.


    It struck me as strange¡ªher hostility towards those who had just saved her. But there was a history between them.


    ¡°Thanks, Alex and Sasha,¡± I offered, speaking for both of us. Olive cantered towards the scene, calmer now that the bear lay lifeless.


    ¡°Hey, no problemo. We get fresh bear meat,¡± Sasha said with a crooked smile.


    ¡°You should be careful with that. Bears have lots of parasites,¡± I cautioned.


    Alex glanced at me, his smile slight but warm, his rough blonde hair clinging to his face, still slick with sweat. "At least it''ll make a good trophy." He winked, and I felt my face flush, warmth creeping up my neck.


    That smile. That damn smile. Oh my gosh.


    Sasha and Alex both carried the bear¡¯s carcass between them back to camp to be processed, leaving us behind.


    The river was in sight, nearing Thornhill''s farms. I wanted to address the question of why Ruth felt that way about Alex and Sasha. Generally, Ruth was a pleasant person, but around some of the younger folks, especially the dungeon divers, she could be quite abrasive.


    ¡°They are the reason my boy is¡­¡± Ruth sighed and shook her head, not wanting to complete her words as if it would summon up past grief. ¡°I don¡¯t have to like them, okay? You should stay away from them, Astrid. They are dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure they didn¡¯t mean to. This place is dangerous. You just saw it for yourself,¡± I reassured her, though I could tell my words had little effect.


    I saw the carnage on the beach, like everyone else. I knew Alex and Sasha had helped save us from the pirates. If it weren¡¯t for them, we¡¯d probably be dead. I wanted to be strong like them. If I was strong, I wouldn¡¯t have lost Aja.


    Oh, Aja¡­


    I teared up thinking about her. Reaching into my palms, I felt for my Familiar: Husbandry Dog to see her fate. The card was blacked out. It had a timer on it: 11:49


    What¡¯s this?


    I kept staring at the card as we returned, and when it reached 11:48, I realized it indicated something would happen in eleven hours and forty-eight minutes.


    Sleep was elusive that night as I kept glancing at the card''s countdown. Eventually, at 6:34, my eyes grew heavy. When I woke up, I felt like a kid on Christmas morning, eager to discover what awaited me.


    I pulled out my Familiar: Husbandry Dog to see the timer had faded, but the card was lit up. I tapped it, and blue strands of light coalesced into a familiar shape. Aja emerged from the light with a joyful bark, her eyes blissfully closed and her tongue hanging out in a contented blep. I rushed over and enveloped her in a tight hug, my hands running over her body as I checked for wounds. She was unblemished, and her scent was pure and fresh, like that of a newborn.


    Thank God, she is just as beautiful as when she left me.


    ¡°Oh, Aja, I¡¯m so sorry. I won¡¯t let it happen again.¡± I planted kisses on her, which annoyed her.


    After my morning chores were done, I went to Bianca, who was in the middle of glazing teaware in wood ash. There were stacks of tea sets already made.


    ¡°Hey, Astrid! Hello, Aja!¡± Bianca waved, putting down her tongs and coming over to pet Aja.


    ¡°Bianca, can I ask you a favor?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Need another pen?¡± Bianca was cupping her hands around Aja¡¯s ears.


    ¡°No, I think we¡¯ll be okay for now. I¡­ want to go into the dungeon.¡±


    Bianca paused for a moment, her face creased with worry. Then she asked, "Huh? Are you sure? It''s dangerous."


    ¡°I want to be stronger, you know? I don¡¯t want other people to defend me.¡± I said resolutely.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Bianca pondered, then nodded. ¡°Okay. I won¡¯t stop you, but Orion is the leader of the dungeon raids. Make sure he shows you the ropes and keeps you safe until you can defend yourself.¡±


    Aja barked in understanding and sat at attention as if she understood Bianca.


    Now I needed to decide on a weapon. I returned to the stockpile to see what resources were available. While there was a warehouse, the stockpile outside was filled with various free materials to encourage the villagers to craft their own items. It contained logs, planks, clay bricks, stones, leaves, fibers, and vines from the trees that Slate had cleared, along with other assorted debris.


    Should I just grab a sword from the warehouse? Ugh, no way¡ªswords are so clich¨¦. I¡¯m an Animal Keeper! A tamer of beasts. I need something way cooler.


    I chose a sturdy rock and braided some fiber into a rope. I secured one end of the rope to the rock and the other end to a stick shaped like a handle. Finally, I wrapped cordage around the handle for a better grip.


    Cord Whip - F


    Whip is 10% more durable


    Now that I had a weapon, it was time to practice and get ready for the dungeon.

 Chapter 39

    Chapter 39


    Bianca


    Day 38


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    This was a bad idea.


    Why were James, Sophie, Astrid, and I in the dungeon? To level our combat skills, obviously, but why did we have to level? When Orion pitched the idea to me, I immediately rejected it, but he made some good points.


    There would be times when some of us needed to defend ourselves. With Orion soon to leave for Kronfeldt, the frontier town we learned about from the pirate captive and the map, we would only have Cade, Sasha, Bart, and Alex left as our defenders. "As classholders, we had a responsibility to the classless." He had said.


    So, here I found myself with a bow¡ªSasha¡¯s old one¡ªand Orion¡¯s old copper long knife at my side. James carried a pirate cutlass, and Sophie had a spear repurposed into a quarterstaff. Astrid wielded her self-made whip. The blacksmiths had inspected all our weapons and made additional modifications to them.


    Anika gave each of us healing herbs instead of potions. She explained that producing large quantities of actual potions was a considerable challenge. The recipe demanded a substantial amount of purple flowers, other herbs, and alcohol, making large-scale production difficult. Moreover, the process was time-consuming, involving endless distillation and a great deal of trial and error. Often, the results were more akin to poison than to a healing remedy.


    Our dungeon guards consisted of Orion, Alex, Bart, Cade, and Sasha. They would form a protective barrier around us: Alex and Cade would lead the way in front, Orion would watch our rear, and Sasha and Bart would cover the flanks, ensuring our safety as we ventured into the depths.


    ¡°Before we go in,¡± Orion said, I sensed some nerves in his voice to go with the nerves in the crowd of new dungeon divers, ¡°If something happens. Do not panic. Just stay in formation. We¡¯ll only handle the first two floors. If we see lone stragglers, we¡¯ll figure out a way to include you guys in the fight so you can get levels. Make sure the weapon you have is one you''re comfortable using because you¡¯ll get a skill called Path of the Whatever. You are stuck on that path as far as I know. I¡¯ve used mace and swords before in testing and haven¡¯t been able to switch off.¡±


    Astrid and I were already well-practiced with our weapons. Astrid had reached Level 1 in the Path of the Whip, while I was at Level 1 in the Path of the Marksman. I was unsure about Sophie and James; James appeared somewhat clueless with his cutlass, whereas Sophie wielded her quarterstaff with practiced ease.


    Orion had this theory that the Paths were some sort of natural means to sharpen our skills with certain weapons. I¡¯ll admit, that I didn¡¯t grasp the idea straight away, but once I unlocked Level 1 in the Path of the Marksman, things clicked. Suddenly, it felt as though my body knew exactly what to do¡ªhow to grip the bow just right, how to pull the string back with the perfect amount of tension. It wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d consciously learned; it was as if the knowledge had been grafted straight into my muscles.


    I wondered if I should have brought Slate along with me, but he would probably be useless in a fight since he wasn¡¯t specialized in fighting. Instead, Slate was back at camp forming bricks, a task it had been doing for the past few days now, for a new building, a tenement that would feature several individual rooms. It would fit around twenty people at first, with plans for forty, eventually. This was going to be a temporary housing solution to shift people out of shelters until everyone could afford their own houses.


    The dungeon doors opened, and I took a deep breath before following the rhythm of the party''s march. Beside me, James was swallowing hard, his hands trembling slightly.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. We¡¯ll be fine, we¡¯ll probably be so bored that we don¡¯t end up doing anything,¡± I tried to reassure the other members.


    ¡°Not to fret milady,¡± James pronounced boldly while his legs trembled, ¡°I will not allow any harm to come to you should the others fail to protect you.¡±


    Our first opponent was a giant black rat, its fur bristling into spikes as it confronted us, a clear warning to stay back. Cade held the creature at bay with his spear, keeping it at a distance. Meanwhile, Orion moved with swift precision, hurling two knives that struck like lightning, each finding its mark on the rat¡¯s front paws.


    ¡°Let the newbies attack them,¡± Orion said.


    Newbies? How dare he!


    Alex and Cade stepped aside like sliding doors, Cade¡¯s shield and spear poised for action. I drew my bow and released a copper arrow that struck the rat¡¯s back. Sophie¡¯s eyes gleamed with determination as she seized the chance for the final blow. Before she could strike, Astrid¡¯s whip lashed out, landing a sharp crack on the rat¡¯s head, leaving a long gash that oozed dark purple ichor. Aja growled menacingly but remained by Astrid¡¯s side. The rat finally fell when Sophie delivered a powerful overhead smash.


    The next rat went down more or less the same way. Orion was trying to encourage James to participate. It felt patronizing for the experienced dungeon divers to just sit back and dangle enemies in front of us. It reminded me of animals bringing dead prey to humans, thinking they were weak hunters.


    Better safe than sorry, pride is less important than broken bones.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Next level, there will be groups of gremlins rather than one rat at a time. If we get swarmed, don¡¯t run or panic. We can handle this,¡± Orion said.


    Nerves wracked me as I traveled through the dark cells on the next floor. My fear of the green gremlins quickly faded, replaced by pity. Alex would chop off their legs, and the newbies would take turns beating their stumps while Bart and Cade stood guard. We cornered a lone gremlin at a dead end, and Alex quickly dismembered its legs. I hadn¡¯t gotten a last hit in a while, so it was my turn.


    The legless gremlin stump looked so pitiful as it cowered in the corner, legless and trembling. I crept closer, bow raised, my fingers shaking on the string, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to release. Its panicked breaths and trembling body made me hesitate. Slowly, I lowered the bow. Just as I did, the gremlin thrust its hands against the ground, trying to spring forward¡ªonly for Sophie to rush in and bring down the end of her quarterstaff, bludgeoning it in one swift motion.


    ¡°Sorry about the kill steal,¡± Sophie winked.


    After the close call, Sophie was examining her cards. It looked like she leveled her Path of the Staff ability and was picking out a skill. She settled on Whirlwind Strike.


    They would make us walk back to the "escape" stairs before engaging in the final boss room, despite Astrid and Sophie¡¯s complaints, deciding it might not be worth it.


    Overall, it was eventful. I had reached Level 2 in the Path of the Marksman and Astrid reached Level 2 in Path of the Whip. James didn¡¯t seem to level in combat at all and Sophie had level 3 in Path of the Staff.


    I had an inkling that Sophie had already been down in the dungeon before. Along with Cass.


    The following day, the party prepared to continue their efforts in training classholders, now with Marek and Anika joining the fray, while Sophie and I remained behind, focused on preparing the portable wagon for its journey. Ethan, however, was adamant about avoiding combat.


    ¡°If I had to defend myself, I¡¯d rely on my touch. If you really need me to be your first line of defense¡­ I think we¡¯d be in serious trouble,¡± The doctor said.


    Orion noted that it would be a shame, given Ethan¡¯s legendary skill held incredible combat potential.


    On that day, Sophie and I prepared the supplies for the trade mission. At her current level, Sophie¡¯s portable wagon had internal storage equivalent to a small bedroom.


    Inside, shelves were lined with neatly arranged teapots and bags of special tea crafted by Anika. The tea blend contained various filler herbs, and dried firecracker berries and was laced with crystalline yellow rocks that resembled tiny lumps of sugar¡ªthis was the primary drug. Anika had mentioned it was less addictive than cigarettes but induced a calming euphoria.


    In addition to the tea, Sophie, Molvin, and Orion built an interesting tombola drum with a crank. Nearby, several bins of carved figurines, made by the children of the village, were piling up at an alarming rate.


    There was a tiny corner of Sophie¡¯s merchant wagon, which contained dried fish, pemmican, campfire supplies, medicine and potions, rope, several throwing knives, a small tent, and water jugs and waterskins all filled with filtered water.


    With all the supplies loaded, Sophie compacted the wagon into its portable form. Tomorrow, at dawn, Sophie, Orion, and James would all leave for the mining town of Kronfeldt.


    Each would have to get a clean bill of health from Ethan before they leave.


    From what they told me, Orion and Sophie would portray foreign traveling nobility, with James serving as their servant and translator. Both Orion and Sophie had been tutored in basic Lokan, the language of the natives on this continent. There was, however, one issue: Orion¡¯s hair had grown quite long, and he wanted it trimmed to better suit his noble role. I volunteered to take care of it.


    Before Orion came over for his haircut, I saw him rehearsing an event with Sophie and James. Afterward, he chatted with Gabriel, a singer, for a while. When he finally approached me, he handed over a pair of razor-sharp shears that he had borrowed from Astrid.


    He sat on a trunk near the campfire at the mess hall, his shirt off, revealing a lean, muscular physique. He must have bathed recently, as he carried a faint scent of wood and salt. Beside him, I had a bowl of water ready to dampen the ends of his dark brown hair.


    ¡°How short do you want it?¡± I asked nervously. I¡¯d never really cut a guy¡¯s hair before and didn¡¯t want to screw it up.


    ¡°Short. If you can give me a number two on the sides and back, with a taper fade, and leave a bit of length on top, that¡¯d be great,¡± he said, amusement in his voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± I replied dryly.


    I took a deep breath and gently grasped sections of his hair, starting from the nape of his neck and carefully slicing through the strands. My fingers brushed against his skin as I worked my way up. I¡¯d gather more handfuls of hair, make precise cuts, and then step back to assess my progress. A man¡¯s hair is his pride, and I was determined not to ruin it.


    ¡°Take care of Cass for me while I¡¯m gone,¡± Orion said sleepily.


    ¡°Of course,¡± I replied, cutting away more of his hair. ¡°Like he was my own younger brother.¡±


    ¡°If I don¡¯t come back¡ª¡±


    You¡¯ll come back,¡± I said firmly, tugging gently on his hair, causing him to flinch slightly.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t, you need to make sure he stays safe. It¡¯s important,¡± Orion said in a serious tone.


    ¡°You¡¯ll come back,¡± I insisted.


    ¡°Do you really think this mission is worth it?¡± Orion asked, his voice tinged with doubt.


    ¡°They are our neighbors. Eventually, we will have to deal with them. We should do it on our own terms.¡± I said.


    It was a huge risk, sending three of our classholders into the unknown like this, but I knew if Orion was with them, they would be safe. Sophie with her class could secure us things we needed like paper, ingots, and clothing. James would bridge the gap. It was late spring right now, but I was already preparing for the upcoming winter.


    The shears weren¡¯t cutting as evenly as I had hoped. Orion¡¯s haircut turned out jagged, uneven, and rough. I fussed over it meticulously until it looked somewhat presentable, though I had to leave more hair than I intended.


    As I moved to trim the length of his bangs, Orion¡¯s head was tilted slightly down, his eyes closed in light sleep. Not wanting to wake him up, I carefully threaded the long strands of hair resting on his forehead through my fingers before cutting them away.


    Once the haircut was finished, I ruffled his hair to shake out the loose strands, which made him jolt awake and instinctively reach for the side of his body. After he relaxed, he ran his hands through his hair, shrugged, and handed me a copper coin.


    There was no emotional farewell when Sophie, Orion, and James departed. By the time most of us awoke, the trade caravan had already set out, eager to cover as much ground towards Kronfeldt as possible before nightfall.


    They had their mission; we had ours. Astrid and I would delve into the dungeon with a few of the regulars, continuing our quest to grow stronger.

 Chapter 40

    Chapter 40


    James


    Day 40 of First Landing, Day 1 on the Road


    Turns out, following the river north wasn¡¯t quite the easy stroll we¡¯d imagined. Rivers don¡¯t run straight like a road, nor do they flow gently across endless plains. No, they twist and turn, cut through hills, and drag you along with them into every obstacle. Thankfully, the map and compass we lifted off those pirates kept us more or less heading northeast toward Kronfeldt.


    Kronfeldt¡ªthe closest thing to a proper town near our little village of Thornhill. Shame my chatty prisoner Rjakk-jakk didn¡¯t live long enough to spill more than the basics: mining town, edge of the Azure Reach wilds, that¡¯s about all I got.


    Our orders, from our beautiful leader Bianca was to see if we could strike a trade deal. Our secondary job? Espionage. We needed eyes on the folk living there and a better lay of the land we¡¯ve ended up in.


    My grasp on the local tongue¡ªLokan, they called it¡ªwas shaky at best, but it¡¯d have to do. We weren¡¯t planning on diving headfirst into the town just yet. The first stop was the outskirts, giving us a bit of time to get a read on the locals, pick up some useful phrases, and avoid making fools of ourselves.


    Comet, my elk, huffed and puffed, clearly wasn¡¯t thrilled about the rocky terrain. Poor lad was still young, barely the size of a mule, with fur that was charcoal with patches of tawny. Not as big as Orion¡¯s beast, Rudolph, but a fair bit larger than Sophie¡¯s Olive. Olive was a smaller, gray-furred cow, her coat muted compared to the bulls.


    Rudolph was already sprouting little stubs of antlers, and the two bulls were squaring up for Olive¡¯s attention whenever they got the chance. So, naturally, we had to keep them apart.


    Thankfully, Orion kept ahead of us, busy scouting out the rough terrain and saving us from breaking our necks.


    With Orion out of earshot, I finally had a moment to myself with the lovely Sophie.


    And what a sight she was. Even now, Sophie¡¯s eyes gleamed like onyx gems, and her raven hair flowed majestically in a short ponytail. Her pink lips glistened in a mischievous smile. Her black leather jacket and jeans clung to her form highlighting her long legs and curves.


    Being thirty-two, I wasn¡¯t young enough to know who Sophie was in the real world. She had quite the reputation as a socialite of some sort among the adult teens in the village.


    ¡°I feel like one of those American pioneers, venturing into uncharted territories, bracing ourselves for whatever challenges lie ahead,¡± I said with a touch of bemusement.


    ¡°This saddle is killing me,¡± Sophie moaned in a way that nearly gave me a heart attack. Oh, be still my beating heart. ¡°I really should have practiced riding like you two before this.¡±


    ¡°¡¯Tis no cause for concern, milady. You''ll acquire the Riding skill before you know it," I said, my tone gentle yet confident.


    ¡°James, what do you do around camp?¡± Sophie asked abruptly.


    ¡°Me? I dabble in all sorts of things. I uncovered this language and questioned the prisoner,¡± I replied, a hint of defensiveness in my voice.


    ¡°No, what is your job?¡± Sophie had a slight smile but seemed to be calculating something, as if weighing me on a scale.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Diplomat. I manage the affairs of the village,¡± I said, again defensively. This question was much easier in the real world when I had an important job as a legal translator in one of the biggest law firms in the country.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Sophie¡¯s smile turned into a slight frown, as if disappointed by my answer.


    ¡°I also¡­ well, not me, but they assigned me to farming.¡±


    ¡°Are you in charge of farming, then?¡± Sophie¡¯s smile returned as she twirled her silky hair in her fingers.


    ¡°Well¡­ not entirely, love, but¡­ You see, Samar is the head farmer, and you could say I¡¯m her assistant manager, of sorts¡­¡±


    ¡°So, what crops do you plant? I know you plant wheat and potatoes so far. What else?¡± Sophie halted Olive to ride alongside me, a knowing smile on her face.


    ¡°We plant all sorts of things. Samar is currently trying to breed different types of plants out of wild mustard. Cauliflower and the like. Besides that, we¡¯re also grafting firecracker berry bushes and some purple swamp flowers called Violet Mirespire. Orion has us planting garlic and onion.¡±


    ¡°Flowers, huh¡­¡± Sophie¡¯s eyes twinkled. Her lips curled mischievously, as if she had a wicked idea.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of roses, aren¡¯t you? My dear, ask, and I shall grow you the most decadent roses you will ever see,¡± I bragged, puffing out my chest proudly, which caused Sophie to let out a soft laugh that melted my heart.


    Oh, how lovely. It¡¯s like we¡¯re on our honeymoon.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Before I could chat further with the delightful Sophie, the dour cook returned. Orion appeared, holding two river trout by their tails. The fish were skewered clean through the tail with throwing knives, their blood trickling onto the ground beside Orion¡¯s elk mount. A dark bird of some sort perched on Rudolph¡¯s head, and the cook plucked out the fish¡¯s eyeballs and fed it to the bird.


    ¡°I found a cave where we can spend the night, so we won¡¯t have to set up a tent. It¡¯ll be dark soon, so we can cook up these fish and continue tomorrow.¡± Orion said, stroking the bird on the head.


    ¡°Sounds lovely. I¡¯ve had quite enough riding for today,¡± I sighed, rubbing my thighs.


    The cave Orion led us to was perched on a grassy hill, its entrance obscured by trees bearing yellow blossoms. Their petals formed a soft carpet on the trail leading into the shadowed maw of the cave. Our elk companions, ever the cautious sort, shifted uneasily as we tethered them to the trees by the entrance.


    Inside, Orion ignited a torch by using one of his magic rings, casting a flickering light over the cave¡¯s interior. The illumination revealed an unsettling sight: bones scattered haphazardly across the floor. Most appeared to be bones belonging to humanoid creatures but with inhuman heads. The discovery put us immediately me on edge.


    The cave was furnished with wolf-hide blankets spread out on the ground, and stumps of wood, fashioned into rudimentary stools, were neatly arranged against the walls. Charcoal drawings of elk, ducks, and wolves decorated the taupe-colored walls, while a bear skull rested ominously on a rock pedestal.


    I reached for my cutlass while Sophie gripped her staff. Orion looked around before wandering out of the cave, leaving us staring and waiting for his orders. Soon, he returned with some firewood and threw it on the already dug firepit, left by whoever had inhabited this cave.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked him. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we get a move on? This is some cave person¡¯s place.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too late. If they come back tonight, we¡¯ll either ask them to stay or take it by force. I¡¯m starting dinner,¡± Orion sighed. He ignited the tinder he gathered with a snap of his thumb on the ring on his middle finger. ¡°Sophie, can you reach into your wagon and get us water, my copper wok, salt, and some hardtack?¡±


    ¡°T-take it by force? You¡¯re having a laugh? Let¡¯s just leave. We can set up camp somewhere else,¡± I said, worry creeping into my voice.


    Sophie seemed not to hear my concerns and left to retrieve the items for Orion. Orion followed behind her after getting the fire going. When they came back, Orion had plates along with those yellow flower blossoms he harvested from the tree, among other herbs. Sophie placed the wok on the fire, and Orion filet the fish precisely before tossing them with water, some herbs, and salt. When he nearly finished steaming the fish, he added the yellow flower blossoms, which wilted, and three pieces of hardtack to rehydrate.


    The whole time he cooked, I kept my fingers clenched tight around the hilt of my cutlass. Every scrape of rock and every drip of water echoed too loudly in the cave, setting my nerves on edge. I half-expected some bloody creature to burst from the shadows at any moment.


    The plate of fish I was served had two carefully carved fillets on it, as did Sophie¡¯s. It seemed Orion saved the more palatable cuts for us, which we ate happily, while he was eating the fish heads and necks, which, to his credit, he seemed to really enjoy.


    Truthfully, I was getting tired of fish, but anything served by Orion seemed to taste better. I guessed that his skills in his class added an extra spice, as it were, to his dishes. The blossoms were vegetal with a bright, summery squash flavor. The fish itself was well-seasoned, though a bit plain if I were to say so myself. The rehydrated hardtack soaked up the broth''s flavor, making it taste like a soggy fish cro?ton. Not that pleasant.


    Still, it was probably the best we could do out here.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch. You two get some rest. I¡¯ll wake the next one up in four hours,¡± Orion said bluntly, putting away the dishes.


    ¡°I go to sleep pretty easily. I¡¯ll take the second watch,¡± Sophie volunteered.


    With that, our watch order was decided, and I settled down into the furs.


    Despite lying on the comfortable furs in a non-cramped housing situation, unlike our shelters in Thornhill, I felt out of place here. I had gotten used to the less-than-ideal situation at Thornhill, and had come around to the idea that it was my home.


    Now, more than ever, I felt a twinge of homesickness. I missed the company. I missed my fields. I missed the ocean breeze. The nights gathered around the mess hall where people would play checkers, talk, and socialize.


    It felt intrusive to sleep in a bed of sorts made for someone else, but the day¡¯s long ride had me beat, and sleep came easily to me.


    In what felt like the blink of an eye after I¡¯d closed them, I was jolted awake by the sharp caw of a bird and the rough grip of calloused hands shaking me. Before I could even gather my wits, a shadowy figure rushed past, shouting over their shoulder, ¡°Get your sword. Protect the elk!¡±


    Adrenaline poured through my veins, and I surged to my feet. I must have slept on a rock because I had a huge crick in my neck, but I bore through it as I reached for the pirate cutlass near me. My business jacket and dress pants had been replaced with wool pants and a cotton shirt. I quickly put on my leather armor, one of the many we looted from the pirates, and sprang out of the cave.


    I heard the guttural calls of ¡°Die!¡± in slurred Lokan, sounding as if a goat had cried it. More screams could be heard, and when I came outside, Orion had his dagger buried in a primitive creature with a pronounced brow ridge and jaundiced-looking skin. As the troglodyte died in Orion¡¯s arm, its grip on the torch and club it held faltered, and the lit torch fell to the dirt below.


    Sophie was bludgeoning another troglodyte creature down on the ground, bashing its skull over repeatedly. They both had one thumb-sized spiral horn protruding off-center from their foreheads. More whistles and sharp shrieks came from the forest. Our mounts were startled, the three elk snuggled against the tree they were hitched to, but they were unharmed.


    Three torches were approaching the cave from between the trees. More wails in harsh Lokan shouted out for a response. I wasn¡¯t an expert in the language yet, but from what I could tell, they were butchering the words and uttering nonsense along with them.


    ¡°Wait here. Guard the elk,¡± Orion ordered Sophie and me. I was more than willing to let him go.


    My hands trembled on my cutlass while I picked up one of the fallen torches with my free hand. The two of us waited there, on guard, brimming with anxiety.


    I crouched down to examine the troglodyte corpses. They were a grotesque hybrid of human and goat, standing upright like men. Their horns jutted awkwardly from their skulls, mismatched and misshapen, while their long, scraggly beards clung to patches of fur across their bodies. Their mouths were lined by a tangle of jagged incisors, each tooth seemingly defying the laws of dental alignment. Their faces were almost human, yet the sheep-like eyes, set far too wide, gave them an unnerving, skewed look¡ªone eye not even pointed straight ahead.


    Three lights flickered in the thick darkness of the forest getting brighter as they moved closer to our cave. I watched as the one on the far left extinguished with a sudden snap. Angry shouts erupted, but the torch in the center followed, snuffed out in silence. The last cry was abruptly cut off with a strangled gasp before the final light on the far right vanished. Moments later, a shadowy figure emerged from the gloom, stepping into the light of our torches.


    Orion was carrying a looted wicker basket of what looked like tiny raspberries the color of violet. He walked past us and said, ¡°I¡¯m going back to sleep. Wake me up if something happens.¡±


    We both let out a sigh of relief.


    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s my turn for guard duty. I don¡¯t think I can sleep all that well after that anyway,¡± I said, my voice shaking.


    Sophie let out a yawn, stretched out like a cat, and waved me goodnight. ¡°Goodnight then. Wake us up when the sun rises.¡±


    In the morning, Orion cooked the berry he looted from the troglodytes into a sort of jam with some dried meat, and we spread it onto our hardtack. The result wasn¡¯t bad. The salty and sweet notes reminded me of a ham and fig crostini. Now, if only I could get some brie and a nice Riesling, I would be set.


    After a cup of tea, our adventures continued. As we rode toward our destination, I kept trying to stretch my neck to work out the crick in it.


    We finally hit a roadblock when the river ran into a small lake fed by a two-story waterfall resting against a rocky cliff. We turned our mounts to the right of the waterfall, looking for another way up.


    When we found a pathway that our elk could handle, we rounded back toward the elevated river and continued following it. After another day of riding, this time through some marshes, we found cover and made camp under the canopy of two willow trees with supplies from Sophie¡¯s wagon, rather than squatting in the caves of primitives this time.


    The next day, we rode past the marshes to find flat plains. We made good time as we found a dirt road by the river. Finally, we saw signs of civilization: a wooden fence closing off areas of barley and oats. Soon, we saw wooly goats the size of pigs grazing. The goats paid us no heed as we rode past them, though our elk noticeably displayed interest, turning their heads in curiosity, and we had to beckon them to keep riding forward.


    Beyond them lay a rectangular farmhouse made of white bricks with a slate-gray roof. The windows had copper frames, and on one side was a huge archway leading inside the house like a pull-in garage. In the archway, on the grass, a farmer appeared to be milking one of the nannies into a metal bucket.


    The farmer spotted us from a distance, wiped his hands on his smock, and stood to attention as if preparing to greet an important visitor. Although he stood on two feet like a man, his face and head were that of a mouse. His hands, though more human, were stubbier than one might expect.


    I noticed Orion¡¯s hand drift towards a throwing knife strapped to his apron. ¡°I¡¯ll handle this,¡± I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. ¡°We can¡¯t just cut our way through every confrontation. We¡¯re here as merchants, remember?¡±


    Orion gave a curt nod but kept his hand close to the knife, though he held it at his side rather than drawing it.


    With that, I spurred my mount forward, butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and prepared to make my first contact with this strange new world.

 Chapter 41

    Chapter 41


    Sasha


    Day 40 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    My crossbow was locked and ready, aimed at this annoying little hare nibbling at our leafy crop. Honestly, if I had to eat fish one more time, I was gonna lose it. Taking out this fuzzy little thief would take out two birds with one bolt.


    I lined up the shot, fired... and, of course, the bolt went way off. The pale brown hare jumped back and dipped out like its tail was on fire. I groaned. Hitting something that far away wasn¡¯t exactly a piece of cake, even for a pro. I could have moved in closer for an easier shot, but what¡¯s the fun in that?


    I grabbed the iron bolt and camped in the same spot at the edge of our field, knowing the hare couldn¡¯t resist our crops for long. Sure enough, an hour later, there it was again. Same one¡ªplump little rump with that white spot, clear as day. I lined up another shot, careful this time, squeezed the trigger¡­ and missed. Again. That thing darted off so fast it was almost mocking me.


    I¡¯ll get you yet, you damn pesky wabbit.


    As the hare disappeared, I heard the bells ring out twelve times. Noon. The bell tower used to be the signal tower the Captain built, but we repurposed it. Now it only chimes at nine for breakfast, twelve for lunch, and six for dinner. Keeps everyone on track. Breakfast doubles as an alarm for those who think hitting the snooze button is a lifestyle choice.


    Ugh, looks like I¡¯ll be stuck eating fish again today. Just my luck.


    At the mess hall, not all of us showed up for the offered lunch. Some had started eating only once or twice a day, skipping lunch either to stay focused on their work or because they were too far from the village¡¯s center to make the trip back. Instead, they¡¯d eat whatever portable meals they could carry with them.


    The number of people here meant rations were tight. Each of us got a portion of fish and a single potato, roasted and salted with little fanfare. The brick oven, which the town threw together right after we got that mill up and running, was working overtime, cranking out bread with our fresh flour. A baker had been assigned to it and was kneading some dough for tonight''s dinner while the oven was being used by the cooks for potatoes. Gladys, with her long wooden peel, carefully pulled out the roasted potatoes, a bunch at a time.


    I tried to pick out a bigger potato, but the size of these things was small compared to the baked potatoes I was used to. I knew Samar was working on selectively breeding bigger potatoes, so I couldn¡¯t blame her. Alex strutted over with that cheeky grin plastered on his face and a plate in hand.


    ¡°Whatcha up to?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, at the blacksmith. I wanted to try some smithing,¡± he said, poking at his potatoes with a bone fork.


    ¡°Try some smithing,¡± I said, laughing softly to myself, shaking my head.


    It was wild how he took his class and Legendary Skill for granted. For him, picking up new tricks was as effortless as breathing. He could just decide to do something new on a whim, like it was nothing.


    ¡°What?¡± he said, mouth full of fish and potatoes.


    Astrid joined us, handing each of us a hard-boiled egg. She had her own plate of fish and potatoes, but she¡¯d jazzed up her meal with a drizzle of honey spiced with wild garlic. Next to her, Aja sat like the perfect little beggar, tail wagging and eyes shining. Alex tossed the dog a fish head, and she snatched it up in one gulp, not even bothering to savor.


    ¡°What¡¯s this for, Astrid?¡± I asked, peeling away the light blue shell of my egg.


    ¡°Free of charge for my dungeon buddies. You need the protein after all. I¡¯m finally getting an abundance of eggs so I can sell and eat some.¡± She plopped down next to Alex with a shy smile, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel a little twinge of annoyance.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I grumbled. Everyone around here was so freaking useful.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Astrid said, swallowing some of her meal. ¡°That reminds me¡ªBianca told me that around four, we¡¯ll be heading to the dungeon. Marek, Bianca, and I are going to try to train a bit, push to level 3 of our Paths, you know? Alex needs to come with us for protection.¡±


    At that suggestion, Alex practically turned into a puppy, all perked up and wagging his metaphorical tail like he was headed to the park.


    When Bianca only offered an invitation to Alex, I felt the sting. Like, seriously? She didn¡¯t even bother to ask me. It was just a given that I¡¯d tag along because of my relationship with Alex.


    We weren¡¯t even official. Just having a good time, nothing serious. I didn¡¯t want to be that person who just¡­ trailed behind Alex like some kind of sidekick.


    But I had no class. Everyone knew that, so they didn¡¯t think I would be useful in a fight. Or useful to this village.


    When Astrid saw my downcast face, she said, ¡°Oh, you can come too, Sasha. We¡¯re planning to spend only two hours in it before dinner. Bianca wants Marek to gain more levels in combat, too. ¡®Those with classes have a responsibility,¡¯ our wise leader said.¡±


    Those with classes, huh¡­ So not me.


    My pulse quickened, heat rising to my cheeks. My fists clenched tight around my fork. I quickly cleared my plate and tossed the fish head to Aja with a bit of a childish huff. All I wanted to do was bolt out of there and head straight for the farms.


    Then I saw it¡ªthat FUCKING hare again, munching on our greens. I readied my crossbow and let loose, but of course, I missed wide right. The hare bounced off, mocking me in its furry little way. I slammed my crossbow down on the ground in frustration.


    Why wasn¡¯t I getting a class? Why was everyone but me getting a class? I fucking hated this so much.


    Alex¡¯s hand landed gently on my shoulder, his touch warm and steady. When I looked up, his smile wasn¡¯t broad like usual, but soft, his eyes filled with an understanding that made the tension in my chest ease just a bit.


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    ¡°Want me to take care of that rabbit for you?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I yelped, shoving him away. ¡°I¡¯m not some helpless girl, okay? I can handle it myself!¡±


    For a moment, Alex¡¯s grin faltered, his eyes lowering and his shoulders slumping just enough to show the sting in my words.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he mumbled softly, looking genuinely regretful.


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing over and over and¡­ even now, Bianca is a better shot than me. Astrid is already a kick-ass fighter. I don¡¯t get why I¡¯m being left behind like this! They¡¯ve barely trained, but oh no, their fucking classes mean they can just zoom right past me without even trying.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get a class eventually. You just¡­ need to figure out what class suits you. You can¡¯t force it,¡± Alex said, trying to comfort me.


    ¡°What happens if I never get a class?¡± I cried.


    Alex frowned and thought before answering, ¡°You know¡­ in anime and comics¡ª¡±


    Oh boy, here we go. Always with this nerd shit.


    ¡°¡­I always respected the ones who didn¡¯t have any powers or special advantages. The ones who, despite not having superpowers, made the most of it. Like¡­ Batman or Rock Lee.¡±


    ¡°Batman? He may not have powers, but he was a freaking billionaire, okay? Dude had, like, a whole company backing him up with super gadgets.¡± I sighed.


    Always with his nerd analogies. If he wasn¡¯t so hot, ugh.


    ¡°I¡¯ll work hard, okay? I¡¯ll get the best weapons and gear in the dungeon for you. I¡¯ll work hard at blacksmithing, and then I¡¯ll be your Lucius Fox.¡± Alex smiled and came closer to caress my cheek.


    I couldn¡¯t help it, so we kissed. That¡¯s what I liked about Alex. He always made the best out of an unpleasant situation.


    Later, after some alone time with Alex, we headed to the dungeon with Bianca, Marek, Astrid, and her dog.


    It felt like Bianca was a lot more confident, as our party remained small. Bart and Cade were busy with other projects. Still, we would only spend a couple of hours in there, just exploring the first two levels. The first level was the usual bore. I honestly got so tired of running these floors and wished we would just use the waystone to go to floor 4.


    We let the newbies take out the rats while we stood by, ready to jump in at a moment¡¯s notice. Anika, our herbalist, had prepared us tinctures, and Ethan had prepared us bandages should anything go awry. We were still taking this seriously, even though I felt like it was a borefest.


    The second floor was always more interesting, but again, I couldn¡¯t do much but wait as the newbies wanted the experience. What''s the point in giving a classless loser like me experience? Bianca had my old bow and trained it at a trembling gremlin at a dead end. She activated the skill Snaring Shot; it flew from a great distance and dug right into the gremlin¡¯s leg, hindering its movement. Marek came over and crushed the gremlin¡¯s head with a smash of his mace.


    It pissed me off that Bianca was already a better shot than I was and, to top it off, she had a skill with her bow.


    We continued searching for loot and stragglers for the newbies to finish off.


    ¡°So Astrid¡­¡± I said, wanting to gossip and maybe stir some life into our party. ¡°You and Ethan seem pretty close lately. You guys hooking up yet?¡±


    ¡°W-what? Where is this coming from?¡± Astrid flushed.


    ¡°I just see you hanging around a lot,¡± I grinned, patting Astrid on the shoulder.


    ¡°We¡¯re friends, okay? We¡¯re just getting to know each other,¡± Astrid continued to stammer, but she glanced away, clearly flustered.


    As we made our way down wide stone steps to another room full of cells, I couldn¡¯t help myself.


    ¡°What about you, Bianca? Got anyone?¡± I asked with a teasing grin.


    Bianca sighed and replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been too busy to even think about that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, what about Sophie? There¡¯s gotta be a reason she got onto the council so quickly.¡± I leaned in, grinning knowingly. Bianca¡¯s face turned bright red. Teasing these two was always a good time.


    Marek, looking thoroughly disgusted by our conversation, seemed like he had wandered into a girls'' washroom by mistake and desperately wanted out. Meanwhile, Alex¡¯s ears perked up. I knew he had a thing for Bianca¡ªalong with half the other girls at camp¡ªbut he wasn¡¯t the type to make a move, probably because of some dumb bro code.


    ¡°W-wait, what? I¡¯m not a¡­ Listen, anyone can join the council. We just keep it small and don¡¯t want to waste everyone¡¯s time with long discussions. It¡¯s not a secret society or anything. We literally meet out in the open, Sasha. You¡¯re welcome to join us anytime,¡± Bianca tried to explain, clearly flustered and desperate to change the subject.


    ¡°Nah, no thanks. I was never into that student council bullshit,¡± I said, stretching my neck with a nonchalant shrug.


    Just as the conversation lulled, our brief lapse in awareness let several gremlins creep out from the shadows of the cells. Five in total. Their ten glowing yellow eyes glinted menacingly in the dim light.


    Two of them rushed at Astrid, who was now confidently guarding the flanks. Her dog lunged at one, sinking its teeth into the gremlin¡¯s neck, while Astrid cracked her whip across the face of the other, sending it stumbling backward. She followed up with more lashes, beating the downed gremlin like some kind of S&M freakazoid. It was... actually kinda hot. Err... Her... not the bloody gremlin.


    I quickly aimed my crossbow at one and, together with Bianca, took it down. Meanwhile, Alex and Marek made quick work of the remaining two gremlins.


    In what felt like the blink of an eye, five dead gremlins lay sprawled across the cold stone floor. I remembered when we first ventured into these dungeons; our party always panicked and fumbled through encounters, with Alex doing most of the heavy lifting. Now, though, every member pulled their weight effortlessly.


    This was the power of the classes.


    Feeling good about our progress and noticing the time, we decided to head back up to the surface and grab some dinner at the mess hall.


    After dinner, Alex, Cade, and Aiden wanted to wind down with a poker game using bone tiles that looked like mahjong pieces. I passed, as I had something else to take care of.


    I headed back to the fields, and, to no one''s surprise, that damn hare was back, nibbling at our crops. I readied my crossbow and took a deep breath before pulling the trigger.


    Bullseye.


    The bolt landed squarely in the hare¡¯s skull. Finally.


    I sold the rabbit to Gladys, who had permission from Bianca to buy any dead animals for 1 copper each. It wasn¡¯t much, but every bit helped.


    Back at my shelter, I grabbed my leather bag, ready to stash the copper. I¡¯d been saving up to have Molvin, the carpenter, make me a wooden drawer. Last I heard, he was charging 10 coppers for one. Total rip-off, but it beat piling my stuff in bags and clay pots in the corner of Shelter Three like I had been.


    When I opened the leather coin bag to add my copper, I froze. It was empty. Completely empty.


    My heart sank as I frantically searched through the rest of my belongings¡ªmy extra bolts, the socks I swiped from the pirates, my dice. Everything was there. Except for my coppers.


    Someone had stolen my coppers.

 Chapter 42

    Chapter 42


    Bianca


    Day 41 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    Our progress on the stone hostel was coming along nicely.


    Over the past few weeks, Bruce, our mason, along with Marek and his crew, have laid the foundation and walls. Slate had finished firing all the bricks a few days ago and was now helping to lay the planks on the second-floor frames, which would serve as the ceiling for the first-floor rooms.


    There were four-room honeycombs, divided by long corridors, giving the layout a feel of a dormitory¡­ or, if you were looking at it more pessimistically, a prison. Our mortar supply had run low because we exhausted our stock of seashells to produce lime.


    Fortunately, this shortage wouldn¡¯t last long. Anika and I had been prospecting the nearby hills for limestone and found a suitable deposit. To our luck, we discovered a chalk cave.


    Each room in the hostel was big enough for one bed, one desk, and maybe one yard of free space. We used a lottery system for the rooms and moved the first 12 people in. The citizens of Thornhill reached into a clay pot for polished go stones that Cass and others had worked on in their spare time. If they drew a white stone, they got a room; if they drew black, they''d have to try again later when more rooms were completed. Eventually, the hostel would expand to fit up to 24 people, or 36 if we added a third floor.


    It had been a day since the Kronfeldt expedition left, and my nerves were on edge with worry.


    Did I make the right decision to send them? No, I can¡¯t doubt myself. It was the right thing. We needed more stuff. We needed information.


    As I moved into my new room at the hostel, I could hear the workers finishing the ceiling nearby. And no, I didn¡¯t just take the room¡ªI won it fair in the lottery.


    Even though I controlled the money and the building, I used the same copper coins as everyone else, earned by making pots and tools. It felt strange to hand out my checks, and I was even stingier with paying myself.


    Prices had been rising, though. Sophie had warned inflation would come. We gave everyone five coppers a week, but selling services and products to the ''government'' adds more coins into circulation.


    At least essentials like food and medicine were price-controlled. Fish stayed cheap, and Anika didn¡¯t raise her prices, even with high demand for her elixirs. Firecracker berry tea, which should¡¯ve been more expensive, was either given freely or sold cheap, and the farmers were grafting more bushes to prepare for future trade and our village¡¯s needs.


    After finishing my initial check on Slate and my room, I moved to the next task on my list: checking in on Cass.


    Cass, who had grown noticeably taller in the past forty days, was now rummaging through a steaming pile of clams in Orion''s cast-iron Dutch oven. Orion had opted for the lighter copper wok, leaving the heavy pot behind.


    I noticed two small wild boars were being skinned by Gladys, who had swapped her old flight attendant uniform for a leather smock over a flax tunic. Her short brown hair, once neatly tied in a bun, now hung loosely over her shoulder, though her calm, patient demeanor¡ªhoned from years of managing passengers¡ªremained unchanged.


    On the table in front of Cass, I saw two copper coins resting on the plank mess table beside his meal.


    ¡°Wow, Cass, did you hunt those boars by yourself?¡± I asked, walking over to inspect them. One of the boars looked like it had been shot in the head with a bullet.


    ¡°Someone has to put food on the table,¡± Cass said, imitating Orion¡¯s dark voice, which made me laugh.


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten pretty good with that sling, huh?¡± I teased, messing up his long flaxen hair, which he quickly straightened with a look of annoyance. ¡°I don¡¯t think Orion would be thrilled with you hunting boar, though. They can be dangerous.¡±


    I¡¯m really going to have to cut his hair, too.


    ¡°He said it was okay,¡± Cass replied, casually picking another piece of clam meat with a bone skewer.


    I didn¡¯t want to pry too much. I knew Cass had gone into the dungeon, and it was odd that Orion would allow that unless Cass had a class. Both of them were keeping it a secret for some reason.


    ¡°Do you miss your brother?¡± I asked. Cass snorted like I¡¯d said something funny.


    ¡°He¡¯s only been gone for a day,¡± Cass said, wiping his mouth with his forearm before sipping some water.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried about him?¡± I wondered, sitting down beside Cass and grabbing one of his clams. He shot me another annoyed look before I grinned. ¡°Sorry, Mayor Tax.¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯m more worried for the people they¡¯ll run into,¡± Cass said, pushing the Dutch oven towards me, signaling he was done.


    I sighed and sucked out some clam juice from the shell before discarding it. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you have your older brother here. I wish mine were here too. At least for a little bit¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the youngest?¡± Cass asked, and I realized we had that in common.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I sighed. Thinking about my family always brought on a wave of sadness. I had to shake it off or I wouldn¡¯t be able to focus for the rest of the day. ¡°My brother would probably get along with Orion. They¡¯re both super intense. Gareth¡¯s a lawyer.¡±


    I tried to remember my family¡¯s faces, but they were fading. Don¡¯t forget their faces, Bianca.


    I didn¡¯t have a single picture of them. Just one picture... I could deal with being alone¡­ sometimes¡­ but forgetting their faces? That I couldn¡¯t handle.


    Cass, ignoring the dark cloud over me, beamed. ¡°You can join our family. We¡¯ll adopt you. Orion and I always wanted a little sister.¡±


    ¡°Younger?¡± I laughed.


    ¡°I was here first. Orion spawned second, and you¡¯re third. You¡¯re the youngest of the Sterling siblings, and I¡¯m the oldest,¡± Cass said, proudly thumbing his chest.


    He has a point, in a way. I just laughed, which annoyed him. Before I could say more, he scampered off, his sling already in hand.


    I finished the last of the clams, savoring the broth. It was nice eating something other than fish for once. My afternoon was all set¡ªI planned to make myself a pillow. A small luxury, but one I''d been missing. The idea of it made me feel a little lighter.


    But just as I was lost in thought, thinking about how to make my room more like my own, Sasha, Cade, and Alex approached with an air of urgency. They slid onto the stools at my picnic table, each one wearing a serious look.


    ¡°Bianca, we¡¯ve got a situation,¡± Cade said, out of breath.


    My mind jumped to the worst-case scenario: something in the dungeon? More raiders? A wandering monster?


    ¡°We have a thief,¡± Sasha growled through gritted teeth.


    ¡°Whoa, calm down. What''s going on?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Somebody stole Sasha¡¯s coppers,¡± Alex said, and it was the angriest I¡¯d ever seen him.


    ¡°Her coins? Are you sure?¡± Disbelief colored my voice. I couldn''t believe anyone here would steal¡ªeveryone seemed so trustworthy.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure. My coin pouch is empty. I saved up eleven coppers. All that¡¯s left are the ones you gave me yesterday for the dungeon run,¡± Sasha explained. She looked like she¡¯d had a rough night¡ªher black hair was frizzier than usual, and her copper-toned skin glistened with sweat as if she¡¯d just finished running laps around the village.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± I shook my head, struggling to accept it. The whole situation made me uncomfortable. ¡°Why would anyone steal from someone else? I know how much money I distribute. Sophie and James could easily audit to check how much everyone has earned. It just doesn¡¯t add up.¡±


    ¡°Are you calling me a liar, Bianca?¡± Sasha snapped, her fists clenching like she was ready to throw punches. ¡°My momma didn¡¯t raise no liar! Someone took my money!¡±


    "Okay, okay, I believe you," I said, cutting in before things escalated. "I just¡­ It doesn¡¯t make sense¡­"


    ¡°I asked around, and Herman and Vesper are missing coins, too,¡± Cade added.


    ¡°What? Oh no¡­¡± I rubbed my temples, feeling the onset of a headache. Why would anyone do this? ¡°I can reimburse you guys. I have some coins stashed away.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want your charity. I want my money back, and I want to find whoever did this and beat the living crap out of them!¡± Sasha demanded.


    ¡°Do you guys have any idea who it could be?¡± I asked again, trying to make sense of the situation. ¡°I just can¡¯t picture anyone here doing it.¡±


    Alex suddenly perked up, smashing his fist into his palm. ¡°I know. A thief did it!¡±


    Cade and Sasha facepalmed in unison, but I was willing to hear Alex out. ¡°Wait, what do you mean, Alex?¡±


    ¡°A person with a Thief class. They¡¯re probably trying to level up by stealing stuff.¡± Alex said confidently.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ If it¡¯s a Thief class, it¡¯s got to be someone without a class yet,¡± I pondered.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s obvious who it is,¡± Cade said. ¡°It¡¯s Super Nine.¡±


    Super Nine¡ªFelix, as was his real name¡ªwas one of the later arrivals to our village. I recall feeling a bit uneasy when he seemed overly familiar during the introductory tour. Despite my reservations, I assigned him to assist Herman after we lost Clark. His striking appearance, with vibrant tattoos and blue and green dreads, was difficult to ignore. The 9mm inked down his arms stood out against his fair skin, among a bevy of other bright tattoos. Still, I didn¡¯t want to think he was a thief just because he looked a little... colorful.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to jump to conclusions. Aren¡¯t we kind of judging a book by its cover?¡± I asked, hesitating.


    ¡°It¡¯s him,¡± Cade insisted. ¡°Herman and Vesper both work with him and they had their coins jacked, and I saw him hitting on Sasha recently. Trust me, Bianca. I know these guys. It¡¯s him.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t act without proof. What do you suggest?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Let me check his possessions. I¡¯ll trail him and keep an eye out,¡± Cade offered.


    Ugh¡­ This was how it started. I didn¡¯t want to turn this place into a police state, but I couldn¡¯t ignore Cade¡¯s background as a police cadet and his class as a Guard probably gave him some insight, right? I sighed. If Super had nothing to hide, it shouldn¡¯t be a big deal, but, God, what kind of reason was that for violating someone¡¯s rights? I closed my eyes for a moment, then nodded approval for Cade to begin his investigation.


    Just as we were about to wrap up the conversation, Anika rushed over, holding up an empty coin pouch. ¡°Someone stole my coins.¡±


    I filled her in on the details, and soon after, I found myself in a familiar spot on the high cliffs overlooking the village. More buildings were popping up, and I spotted Marek¡¯s house between the farms and Shelter 3. Slate was busy laying planks to finish another room in the hostel.


    We don¡¯t have any formal laws yet because I hadn¡¯t thought we needed them. Most things were just common sense. But theft? Theft would have to be dealt with. A thief was hiding somewhere out there, and soon I¡¯ll have to deliver judgment.

 Chapter 43

    Chapter 43


    Bianca


    Day 41


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    After the first reports of the ¡°crime wave¡± in Thornhill, I found myself at the smithy, requesting something I never thought Thornhill would need¡ªlocks. I¡¯d always pictured our little town as the kind of place where you could leave your door open without a second thought. But that was before I realized how naive I¡¯d been.


    At the smithy, Bart and Jesus were already deep in an argument over the best way to forge a sickle. Back on Earth, they¡¯d worked side by side in a car shop, though they weren¡¯t really brothers. We called them that anyway. They even had matching crew cuts and nearly identical facial hair. The only difference was Bart''s height and sharper features, whereas Jesus had a stockier build, his arms covered in intricate sleeve tattoos that stood out against his sun-warmed skin.


    ¡°Locks, huh, B?¡± Jesus asked, arching a brow at my request. His hand ran over the stubble on the back of his head, a habit he seemed to fall into whenever something caught him off guard.


    ¡°Man, we¡¯re all family here. Who the hell would dare steal from us?¡± Bart slammed his hammer down on a red-hot flat piece of metal; the sharp clang echoing through the smithy. ¡°I find that thief, Ima break their fingers, medieval style.¡±


    I held up a hand, trying to rein him in before rumors could start flying faster than they already were. ¡°It¡¯s just a precaution. Don¡¯t worry.¡±


    Jesus leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, eyeing me. ¡°You know who it is, B? That Alex guy. Dude comes in here all the time, uses our equipment like he owns the place.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± I stared at Jesus, incredulous. ¡°Alex is a nice person. Besides, the smithy is free to use. I welcome anyone who wants to learn blacksmithing, and you two know that.¡±


    ¡°Yo, about that B¡­ we¡¯re gonna need more iron soon, queen. Stacks low right now. Real low,¡± Jesus said, shaking his head.


    ¡°Please do not call me that,¡± I replied, annoyed, rubbing my temple. ¡°The trade caravan will be back in a week or so and they¡¯ll have some. Other than that¡­ we might have to stick to copper from the dungeons. If we can loot more bronze items from the lower levels or find tin, you can make stuff out of bronze.¡±


    ¡°Aight B, but that¡¯s regression. It goes steel next, not copper man. We¡¯re heading backwards.¡± Bart frowned in disappointment.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can round up. Keep up the good work, you two,¡± I tried to smile, but there was so much going on in my head at once right now.


    My next task was to head over to the warehouse and check on the inventory. I¡¯d already combed through the town¡¯s copper coin reserves and everything was accounted for, but now I needed to make sure the warehouse stock was in order. We didn¡¯t have much left after the trade caravan came through and cleaned us out.


    ¡°It¡¯s all here, Queen B. Nothing out of the ordinary,¡± Larry rasped, his words broken up by a hacking cough.


    I winced at the nickname. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. And are you alright, Larry?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just a cough, that¡¯s all. No big¡ª¡± His sentence dissolved into another fit of coughing, and I took a step back, not keen on catching whatever he had.


    ¡°No big deal,¡± he wheezed, trying to wave it off. ¡°Just a cough.¡±


    ¡°Go see Ethan.¡± I placed a copper coin down in front of him. He snatched it up with a practiced hand. ¡°That¡¯s not a request, by the way.¡±


    I walked away to the sounds of Larry hacking up his lungs, trying not to grimace as I headed toward the usual dungeon crew¡ªCade, Alex, and Sasha. Anika was there too, one of the thief¡¯s victims, her face tight with frustration.


    Sasha looked like a drenched cat, seething with barely contained rage. Cade stood rooted in place, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. And Alex¡­ well, Alex was as unbothered as ever.


    "It¡¯s Super," Sasha hissed. "He just tried to get Ruth to sell her room in the hostel for 70 coins."


    Super. As in Super Nine, a name that still made me cringe every time I heard it. He was one of Herman¡¯s helpers and, unfortunately, our prime suspect in this little investigation.


    "Are you sure? Maybe he just worked hard for those coins?" I offered, even though I knew how weak it sounded as soon as it left my mouth.


    "Worked hard?" Sasha scoffed, hands on her hips. "He slacks off most of the time. I talked to Herman, and he barely helps out. Always disappearing when there¡¯s actual work to do."


    "I questioned everyone in camp," Cade added, his brow furrowed. "Super doesn¡¯t have any income except for the copper you gave him for helping Herman."


    Cade had taken on the role of our lawman, though it wasn¡¯t official yet. He¡¯d been a cadet at the police academy before everything changed, and now he was filling in as our de facto sheriff. The council and I were working on making it formal, but for now, it was just a role we whispered about behind his back.


    If only James or Sophie were here¡­ they could run an audit and settle this whole thing in no time.


    ¡°He can¡¯t be that stupid, stealing outright and then spending it immediately. That¡¯s insane.¡± The words came out too soft, too unsteady, and only I was buying them.


    Cade shook his head. ¡°I know these kinds of criminals, Bianca. The minute they get their hands on the loot, they blow it on something stupid. I wanted to detain him the second he flashed those coins.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not arresting him without proof,¡± I said, crossing my arms.


    Anika chimed in, "We can set a trap. Alex, you¡¯ve got a room in the hostel, right? Offer it to him for 100 coins."


    Cade smiled, stroking his beard thoughtfully. ¡°Yeah, I like it. Who do we know around here with enough coins to lure him in?¡±


    ¡°Sophie has the most, but she¡¯s away,¡± I mused. ¡°Besides the town treasury, I¡¯m not sure. Marek and Molvin spend their money like nobody¡¯s business, and Anika and Herman have already been hit.¡±


    "Ethan," Anika suggested. "He¡¯s been patching up the village and must have at least 30 coins."


    ¡°Perfect,¡± Cade said, already formulating the plan. ¡°Bianca, you talk to Ethan. Have him let it slip that he¡¯s got a stash of copper. We¡¯ll wait for Super to take the bait and catch him red-handed.¡±


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    <hr>


    Ethan was in Shelter 2, as usual. He hadn¡¯t won the lottery for a private room, but it didn¡¯t appear to bother him. Shelter 2 had become his makeshift clinic, where he treated most of his patients. Now, it was Larry who sat under his care, looking as miserable as ever while Ethan wrapped up his examination.


    If Super Nine wanted to steal from Ethan, it would be a tough job. Ethan rarely left Shelter 2, always busy with someone or something.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the diagnosis, doc?¡± I asked as I approached.


    Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°I think it¡¯s COVID.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?!¡± Larry exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat.


    ¡°Have you been vaccinated, Larry?¡± Ethan asked, his voice calm, and professional.


    ¡°Hell no,¡± Larry replied, puffing out his chest in pride.


    Ethan sighed again, but this time it was deeper. ¡°Alright. I¡¯d suggest you take a break from work and self-quarantine.¡±


    ¡°No way, doc. I gotta work. I need to save up and buy one of those rooms for me and my wife,¡± Larry said, his tone almost desperate.


    I stepped in. ¡°Larry¡­ take my room in the hostel for a while. I¡¯ll sleep in Shelter 3 while you quarantine.¡±


    Larry''s face twisted in frustration. ¡°Come on! I thought we left all that behind in the real world. Besides, I¡¯m mostly by myself in the warehouse. Please. I finally feel like I¡¯m important here.¡±


    I glanced at Ethan, who just shrugged, clearly used to dealing with this kind of pushback. ¡°I guess the fresh air will do him some good,¡± Ethan said. ¡°Just stay away from the elderly, like Herman and Kathy.¡±


    Larry grumbled but nodded, understanding the risks. He wasn¡¯t young himself, probably in his late forties, but he accepted the situation and walked off. I¡¯d have to warn Herman to keep his distance from Larry.


    ¡°Is that wise?¡± I asked, watching Larry disappear down the path.


    Ethan sighed heavily, clearly exhausted. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get into it.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± I said, then got to the real reason I was there. ¡°I need you to come with me and brag about how much money you have.¡±


    Ethan looked at me like I¡¯d lost my mind. ¡°What? I don¡¯t have that much money. I usually work for free, and people give me whatever they can spare.¡±


    ¡°Just do it, okay?¡± I grabbed him and pulled him to the mess hall.


    As Ethan left Shelter 2, I caught sight of Cade sneaking in, rifling through Ethan¡¯s bags. He pulled out the coin purse, slipped something inside, and returned it before slipping out again to hide among the trees, waiting for his target. I thought I saw Sasha, Astrid, and a wagging tail behind a tree nearby, probably in on the plan.


    At the mess hall, Super was digging into a plate of roast boar, a mug of wine¡ªlikely purchased from Father Gallagher¡ªclutched in his hand. He looked a bit tipsy, wiping his mouth on his heavily tattooed arm. I overheard Alex''s voice, loud and theatrical, as he approached Super.


    ¡°Yo, S9! I heard you were looking for some real estate, my dude,¡± Alex spoke his lines woodenly which made me bury my face in my hands. ¡°I¡¯ll sell you my room for a hundred coins.¡±


    God his acting was terrible.


    ¡°Ayo, for real?¡± Super slurred, barely holding it together. ¡°I got, like, fiddy on me right now, cuz. Just chill, I¡¯ll be hustlin¡¯ for sure. Hit me up later, aight?¡±


    ¡°Sounds super, Super,¡± Alex said, giving a thumbs up. After his joke, Super burst into fits of laughter, hyena-like, the sound booming through the mess hall.


    ¡°Soo¡­ Ethan,¡± I tried not to sound too obvious, but my voice carried a bit too far. ¡°You must be rolling in coins with how many people you treat, huh?¡±


    ¡°Oh YES, I sure AM, Bianca. I think I almost have enough for my OWN HOUSE! I have at least FORTY COINS saved up,¡± Ethan replied in a flat, wooden tone. Normally, his voice was soft and soothing, like a librarian reading a story, but right now, it felt painfully forced. I resisted the urge to slap my forehead, instead pressing my lips together to stifle my frustration.


    This was so ridiculous. There was no way anyone would fall for such an obvious trap. I felt a pang of sympathy for Super.


    After that little skit, I shook off my embarrassment and focused on my work, moving to create barrels near the main stockpile. I was making large clay jars and wooden barrels for Father Gallagher¡¯s ever-growing alcohol stills alongside a guy named Gabriel Reyes. He was a musician back on Earth, but here, he was doing odd jobs while figuring out what he wanted to pursue.


    Gabriel always spoke with a flamboyant flair, as if every word was part of some grand performance. His hands never stayed still for long, often brushing his unruly curls from his eyes in a graceful gesture. When I asked what class he wanted, he flashed a grin¡ªhalf mischief, half pride.


    ¡°Musician,¡± he declared, the word hanging in the air like a promise. ¡°I struck a deal with the trade mission for a guitar. Or any instrument, really. I want to fill this place with some music.¡± His excitement was infectious, a spark of joy in a world where such light was rare.


    Music. Oh, I wanted to listen to some music.


    Although there were more important things around camp that needed doing, we needed entertainment around here. People needed laughter and joy. Not just work.


    Our work was interrupted by a sudden commotion. I heard Cade¡¯s baritone voice ring out, shouting, ¡°GET BACK HERE!¡± My hands froze as I paused to see what was happening.


    Cade was chasing a frantic Super through the trail leading from the forest to the warehouse. During the chase, it looked like Super was blinking through the trees, causing Cade, someone who had a legendary skill, that made him faster and stronger in town, problems closing the gap.


    The gap closed as Cade started guessing Super¡¯s juke blinks through the forest, instead of turning left, Cade pounced right, guessing Super¡¯s juke correctly, and was right behind the suspected thief. Soon, a crowd gathered as Cade leaped onto Super, pinning him to the ground.


    With a mix of curiosity and concern, I watched as Cade held Super¡¯s arm behind his back, twisting it just enough to keep him under control. He reached into Super¡¯s Gucci-patterned jogging pants and pulled out a bag of coins. Aja, barking excitedly, joined Astrid and Sasha at the scene, sniffing the bag curiously.


    When Cade opened the bag, he pulled out a ball of dried fish mixed with berries and potatoes¡ªone of Aja¡¯s favorite treats that Astrid often fed him. Cade held the bag of coins high and proclaimed, ¡°Caught you red-handed, Super. This belongs to Ethan.¡±


    Murmurs rippled through the crowd, turning quickly to anger. I could feel the tension rising; it was becoming a mob mentality. If I didn¡¯t intervene, they might string him up.


    ¡°Ayo, this is a setup, man! A damn fucking setup! I didn¡¯t steal anything.¡± Super pleaded, thrashing against Cade¡¯s grip, desperation flickering in his eyes.


    ¡°You lying piece of shit!¡± Sasha¡¯s voice cut through the air, sharp with fury. ¡°You stole my coins!¡±


    ¡°I knew he was trouble the minute he got here,¡± Tiffany said, one of the older women and Larry¡¯s wife nodding to the other villagers who had gathered to see this spectacle.


    ¡°He stole my sister¡¯s coins, too! And Herman¡¯s as well!¡± Sorelle chimed in, her voice trembling with anger, fueling the tension growing among the villagers.


    ¡°Not Herman!¡± someone gasped in the crowd.


    ¡°Kick him outta here!¡±


    ¡°Thief! Cut his damn hands off!¡±


    ¡°Bianca, crush him with your golem!¡±


    ¡°Stealing from an old man? That¡¯s low¡­¡±


    ¡°Get Alex to chop off his hands!¡±


    The noise escalated, and panic flickered in my chest. This wasn¡¯t good.


    ¡°QUIET!¡± I shrieked, my voice cutting through the chaos, silencing the crowd in an instant. All that remained was the sound of Super¡¯s ragged breathing beneath Cade¡¯s grip. I fixed my gaze on him, cold and steady.


    ¡°Super. We suspect you of stealing coins from your fellow villagers. What do you have to say?¡±


    ¡°Not guilty, B. Yo, I plead the fif and all that. I want my fucking lawyer, ya hear?¡± he gasped, letting out a post-drink burp.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t America, smartass,¡± Cade grunted, pressing Super¡¯s chest back into the ground. ¡°We literally saw you walk out of the shelter with Ethan¡¯s money.¡±


    ¡°This ain¡¯t fair, cuz,¡± Super began to sob, tears streaming down his face. ¡°B, believe me. Why I need dough for, anyway? Ain¡¯t shit to buy round here.¡±


    ¡°Bianca, don¡¯t fall for this crap. We all saw him steal it,¡± Sasha urged, her voice urgent. ¡°You gotta do something.¡±


    What should I do? I can just punish him here and now but... was that right? I remember how the Captain acted towards Orion and even though he was one hundred percent right about Orion... it still didn''t make it fair that someone can just unilaterally sentence someone without hearing their side of it. Justice is supposed to be fair.


    I sighed, feeling the weight of the moment. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll have a trial.


    Astrid, Sasha, and Cade stared at me in disbelief as I hung my head, regretting the decision the minute it came out. The noise exploded all at once¡ªshouts, arguments, the stomp of feet as people surged forward, hands raised in questions. The air buzzed with the electric hum of rising anticipation. People started taking bets, arguing over who would be on the jury and who would serve as judge. Thornhill was about to have its first trial, and the villagers were in a frenzy.

 Chapter 44

    Chapter 44


    Ethan


    Day 41


    Population of Thornhill - 53


    Few events united a small village quite like a witch burning, the shared conviction of a righteous crowd against a common, wicked enemy. All we needed were two things: a spectacle and a witch.


    Our spectacle was this sham of a trial, cobbled together by mostly ignorant villagers whose only experience with criminal proceedings came from TV legal dramas and the occasional high-profile celebrity case in America. There were no pre-trial motions, no preliminary hearing, no discovery, no voir dire. Just a hasty proceeding in a mess hall, with picnic tables and wooden stools as the courtroom.


    And we had our witch¡ªan oddball known as Super Nine. I hadn¡¯t bothered to acquaint myself with my ¡°client¡± before the trial, aside from his freestyling performances at the mess hall, which, to be honest, I wasn¡¯t a fan of.


    Someone had to play pretend lawyer, and of course, it had to be me. To make things worse, I had to defend someone accused of stealing my coins. I didn¡¯t know the first thing about being a lawyer. It felt like the council had reverse-discriminated me into this role. There¡¯s this expectation that med students are smart, but I didn¡¯t know anything about the law.


    I¡¯m a med student, not a public defender.


    Still, I believe in the justice system. I was all about the idea that justice is blind and everyone¡¯s innocent until proven guilty. Nobody was stepping up to defend Super Nine against these serious charges, and it didn¡¯t seem fair to me. So, I argued with the council that someone should defend him and for my efforts got assigned to be his defense counsel.


    I didn¡¯t just believe in justice¡ªI believed in our village. We had to handle this fairly, even if everyone thought Super Nine was guilty.


    Anika and Cade were on the prosecutor''s side. I promised Super I¡¯d do my best, but I knew I was outmatched. Cade was a police cadet, and Anika was way smarter than me in most things.


    Our judge was Herman, pulled away from his boat, along with his helper Vesper¡ªanother of the thief¡¯s victims. The jury would be five people chosen by lottery. It felt like we were in Ancient Greece, with people fighting for jury duty instead of trying to avoid it, like in the modern world.


    We arranged the picnic table in the mess hall, set up Herman at the "high table" and placed the witness stand next to it. The two counsel tables were near the front, with the gallery of wooden stools behind us.


    The village came to watch what they dubbed the ¡°trial of the century¡±.


    Herman limped to his seat at the judge¡¯s table, exhaling as he sank. ¡°I sure hope this is important enough to skip a meal over. Let¡¯s get started. Anika, begin.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Judge, jury members, and villagers. Today, we¡¯re here to prove that Mr. Felix ¡®Super Nine¡¯ Yates is guilty of stealing¡ªnot from one, but five members of our community, including myself, his defense counsel, the judge, Sasha, and Vesper, his coworker. I remind the judge and the villagers that this trial is just a formality.¡± For the first time, the usually stoic and analytical Anika showed fire in her eyes as she stared directly at Super Nine. ¡°For the good of Thornhill, confess and plead guilty. Stop this farce so we can move on.¡±


    The crowd cheered and hooted, which I thought was rude for a court setting, but this was a mock court at best¡ªwe were kids playing at being lawyers. I felt embarrassed as I got up to give my opening statement.


    ¡°Mr. Yates claims he is innocent of all charges. It¡¯s worth noting that his alleged victims are all people with the power to convict him. If this were America, this trial would end in a mistrial because of the conflicts of interest. My client believes he¡¯s being targeted because of discrimination and prejudice, and there¡¯s no hard evidence linking him to the crimes.¡±


    ¡°Discrimination?¡± Cade scoffed.


    ¡°Quiet,¡± Herman ordered. ¡°Anika, call your first witness.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d like to call the defendant himself. Mr. Yates, please take the stand,¡± Anika said.


    Super approached the stand, which was just a wooden stool. I had tried to get him to wash his face beforehand, but everything was rushed, including this trial. He straightened his technicolor-dyed dreadlocks, pulled down his sleeves to hide his tattoos like I asked, and sat up straight.


    ¡°Mr. Yates, can you explain why you had Ethan¡¯s coin purse when Cade apprehended you?¡± Anika asked, her tone clinical.


    ¡°Yo¡­ I mean, I didn¡¯t know it was his. Thought it was mine,¡± Super shrugged.


    ¡°Ethan kept his coin pouch in Shelter Two, also known as the Heart Shelter. You live in Shelter Three, the River Shelter. Am I correct?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that day I was at Two ¡®cause it¡¯s closer to the mess hall. Had to cop some meat¡ªlegit meat, not fish. Must¡¯ve grabbed it by accident.¡±


    ¡°And can you explain why we found another coin purse on you with forty-five coins?¡± Anika pressed.


    "Yo, it¡¯s like when you¡¯re looking for your keys, and boom, they¡¯re in your pocket the whole time. Same vibe," Super said, getting laughs from the gallery. Cade just shook his head, like he¡¯d heard this excuse a thousand times.


    ¡°So those forty-five coins are yours?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re mine. Ain¡¯t much, but they¡¯re mine,¡± Super confirmed.


    ¡°Father Gallagher said you spent five coins on wine today and five yesterday, which would bring your total to fifty-five coins. Molvin said you paid 10 coins for a cupboard recently, bringing it sixty-five coins. Herman, you were there each time Bianca paid Super. How often was that?¡± Anika turned to the judge, which was a breach of proper protocol, but nobody cared.


    ¡°Maybe six or seven times. He¡¯s been skipping work recently,¡± Herman replied.


    ¡°Six or seven times. Bianca told me she gives two coins for each day of work to you. So even if we count that and your initial allowance, you¡¯re still well short, Mr. Yates. We know from Father Gallagher and others that you¡¯ve spent your earnings on wine and meat. So, where did the rest of the coins come from?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been hustlin¡¯, cuz. What do you want me to say?¡± Super shrugged, his left leg bouncing like a jackhammer.


    ¡°In what way? Can anyone in the gallery confirm buying from you or giving you coins?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ umm,¡± Super scanned the crowd, then said, ¡°Yeah, that fine piece Sophie hooked me up. I slid her some fish on the low, and she hit me back with a few coins for it.¡±


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    ¡°How convenient, considering she¡¯s not here,¡± Anika replied, clearly frustrated.


    "Yo, take it up with her," Super said, grinning like he¡¯d just dodged trouble.


    ¡°When she returns and denies it, will you admit your guilt?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯ll be her word against mine, like all of this,¡± Super said, nodding toward Cade and Sasha.


    ¡°No further questions,¡± Anika said, returning to her bench. Super winked at her, and I saw her turn red with anger.


    I really didn¡¯t want to do this, but I stood and approached the stand.


    ¡°Mr. Yates, can you explain your relationship with Sasha?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Sasha? She¡¯s a baddie, man. Lowkey tryna slide into that, feel me?¡± Super smirked.


    ¡°And how did Alex and Cade react to that?¡±


    ¡°Objection!¡± Cade said, standing up. ¡°That¡¯s irrelevant.¡±


    ¡°Sit down,¡± Herman snapped. ¡°I want to hear this.¡±


    ¡°Both Cade and Alex were tryna get with her, but Cade was too late. Feel me?¡± Super grinned.


    Like vultures, the villagers in the gallery leaned in and started whispering juicy speculation.


    ¡°So you think this is all payback for hitting on Sasha?¡± I asked, feeling ridiculous.


    "Can you blame ¡®em? She fine as hell," Super shrugged.


    ¡°You little-¡° Sasha growled.


    ¡°Quiet!¡± Herman barked.


    ¡°No further questions,¡± I said, retreating to my seat. Super rubbed my shoulders as he sat down besides me, and I just wanted to disappear.


    Anika¡¯s next witnesses¡ªAstrid, Sasha, and Cade¡ªall testified that they saw Super take my coin pouch. Super responded that they were ganging up on him because they were angry about Sasha. His defense was flimsy, but it was all I had to work with.


    When Astrid took the stand, I asked her, ¡°Are you friends with Alex?¡±


    ¡°Does this have anything to do with the case?¡± She glared at me. It was clear I lost a few points with her for defending Super.


    ¡°Answer the question, please.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am. Anything else? Want to read my diary next?¡± She crossed her arms.


    ¡°Are you friends with Sasha and Cade too?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied curtly.


    ¡°You¡¯re all part of the dungeon group, right? You¡¯ve been getting closer lately.¡±


    ¡°You know we are. You patch us up all the time.¡±


    ¡°So far, all the testimony has come from one group of friends. Don¡¯t you see how that could be a problem?¡±


    ¡°What? I might be friends with them, but I wouldn¡¯t like lie on their behalf to get an innocent person convicted!¡± Astrid hissed. Her dog lying in wait near her also got up and barked as well.


    Why was I burning this bridge? For Super Nine? This guy?


    ¡°No further questions,¡± I mumbled, feeling like a tool as I returned to my seat.


    The closing arguments were more or less a rehash of the opening statements. The jury deliberated, and to my surprise, there was one holdout¡ªRuth. We needed a unanimous decision to convict, and she wasn¡¯t budging. She argued that the case was rigged against Super, as if some shadowy group had conspired against this poor kid, and she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of injustice.


    ¡°They¡¯re ganging up on that poor kid!¡± Ruth argued, her heart aching for Super as she pleaded to let him go. ¡°It¡¯s rigged! It¡¯s rigged against him! All of them are dungeon people! Astrid, darling, I love you, but those others can¡¯t be trusted!¡±


    In the background, amidst the clamor and heated arguments of the hung jury, the crowd grew restless, debating Super''s fate. Through it all, I noticed Cass, the young, bright boy I¡¯d been teaching in my spare time, leaning in to whisper something to Anika. Moments later, she stood up, her face resolute, as if whatever Cass had said was the final nail in Super''s coffin.


    ¡°Judge Herman, I¡¯d like to call another witness¡ªCass Sterling,¡± Anika pleaded.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t no judge,¡± Herman huffed. ¡°Fine. Cass, get on up here, son.¡±


    Surprise witnesses? It was clear this was a kangaroo court¡ªnothing went through due process. I thought about objecting to this farce, but what was the point? Cass walked up to the stand, sitting confidently.


    ¡°Cass, do you have any testimony to present to the court?¡± Anika asked.


    The young boy removed his baseball cap, revealing wild, long blond hair, twirling the cap around his chest. ¡°Yeah. I saw Mr. Super steal Herman¡¯s coins.¡±


    ¡°Man, that¡¯s bullshit! He don¡¯t know what he¡¯s saying! Dude¡¯s just a dumb kid!¡± Super jumped up, pointing and getting heated.


    ¡°When did you see this happen?¡± Anika asked.


    ¡°It was late at night. I was gathering clams for dinner when I saw Super sneak into Herman¡¯s stuff near the beach shelter,¡± Cass said nervously, gripping his cap, his hands trembling. Super looked like he wanted to get up and throttle the kid.


    ¡°He¡¯s lying! I didn¡¯t steal it at night! Why the hell would I do it then? That¡¯s when Herman¡ª I mean¡­ I didn¡¯t steal anything! That kid¡¯s lying! Hey, you little snitch, you know what happens to snitches, right?¡± Super snapped.


    ¡°Sit your ass down! You threaten that boy again, and I¡¯ll whoop you myself,¡± Herman growled, pounding his fist. ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough. This is a waste of time. Jury, get another verdict going. And keep your damn feelings out of it this time.¡±


    Herman shot a glare at Ruth, who shrank under his gaze. After a second deliberation, even Ruth couldn¡¯t argue against the tide¡ªall five members voted guilty.


    We used the old manacles from our dead frog prisoner to shackle a defiant Super, swearing vengeance, in one of the newly built rooms in the hostel expansion. He got a fur rug to sleep on and a chamber pot while we decided what to do with him.


    Later that night, I was eating with Cass. He¡¯d caught some large coconut crabs from the beach, and we dipped potatoes into the roe. I showed him my hand, naming all the bones, before moving on to more topical things.


    ¡°Good thing you were there to catch Super stealing. Otherwise, we might not have convicted him,¡± I said, sucking meat from a giant crab claw.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t there,¡± Cass admitted.


    I froze, staring at the boy, shocked. He continued pulling meat from his crab leg with a copper knife, completely unfazed.


    ¡°But¡­ that means you perjured yourself, Cass. Why did you testify against him?¡± I asked.


    ¡°He was guilty, Ethan. Sometimes you gotta do a tiny bad thing to protect the village,¡± Cass explained, not an ounce of remorse on his face.


    ¡°It¡¯s not good, Cass. Those tiny bad things add up,¡± I muttered, suddenly losing my appetite.


    My heart sank, the weight of it heavy, as I realized our village¡¯s first conviction had been built on a lie. In the end, they did what was necessary since Super was guilty, but I had never been the kind to believe that the ends justified the means. I felt a quiet relief that it hadn¡¯t fallen to me to make that kind of choice.


    The next day, another commotion broke out as I made my rounds. I was headed to check on the health of our first human prisoner when I found Cade, Bianca, and Alex already there.


    Super was gone. Someone had unlocked his chains.


    Soon, Herman limped over, saying a fishing rod, his backpack, a bunch of dried fish, and several waterskins were stolen.


    ¡°He¡¯s gone!¡± Cade cursed. ¡°I should have¡­ damn it. He took our stuff and ran!¡±


    ¡°Who set him free? How did he unlock the manacles?¡± Bianca asked.


    ¡°The key¡¯s right here. Nobody took it off me,¡± Cade said, waving the key ring in Bianca¡¯s face.


    ¡°I think he¡¯s a Thief class,¡± Alex suggested. ¡°He must have used some ability to get out.¡±


    We formed a search party, but Super was long gone. Even with Bianca and Alex¡¯s low-level tracking skills, he was nowhere to be found. We decided to install locks on the warehouse, knowing full well a Thief could pick them if he wanted to. The village had its first brush with crime, and now everyone was watching their meager belongings.


    Soon, the legend of Super Nine began to spread¡ªlurking in the dark, ready to steal what little we had. The village slept a little less easily, gripping their purses a bit tighter.

 Chapter 45

    Chapter 45


    James


    Day 43 of First Landing, Day 3 on the Road


    When presenting yourself to new people, they say you must make a positive first impression. A smile, open body language, the works. Be confident. Be friendly. Be the embodiment of warmth and charm. Sounds simple, right? But then again, people rarely introduce themselves as an envoy to mouse farmers, do they?


    Now, maybe in the strange world of our rodent hosts, friendliness towards strangers was considered some kind of vile insult. Perhaps a smile was less "hello" and more "prepare to die." Or maybe, just maybe, they harbored deep-seated prejudices against our kind that we had absolutely no clue about.


    Still, my gut told me that curiosity was winning out over fear. The lead farmer, a mouse with steel-blue fur, wore a straw hat. His face and ears were distinctly mouse-like, but his body was anthropomorphic, with legs and feet that stood upright like a human''s, not like a mouse standing on its hind legs. His stubby-fingered hands were bare of fur. Next to him, a plump, brown-furred woman stood by the farmhouse door, her whiskers twitching with... curiosity? Suspicion? Hard to say¡ªreading mouse expressions wasn¡¯t exactly my strong suit.


    I slid off my mount with a smile that could''ve sold snake oil, making sure to present myself as the lead delegate. It appeared, however, that our elk was the real star of the show. The two farmers were far more interested in the mounts than in me. Sophie followed suit, dismounting gracefully, while Orion stayed put on Rudolph, his eyes scanning the horizon like some hyper-vigilant meerkat. His jackdaw was circling restlessly above us, adding to the general air of paranoia.


    Orion had the good sense to zip up his hoodie and pull his cloak over his body, concealing the knife-adorned apron and belt underneath. We didn¡¯t need them thinking we were here to fillet their families.


    Bowing low¡ªfar too low for a meeting with mouse farmers, but hey, diplomacy is diplomacy¡ªI introduced myself. The farmer nodded in return, his gaze flicking between me and our elk, clearly deciding which one was more of a curiosity.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± I said warmly. ¡°I traveled far away and would ask if you would welcome us to stay with you. We are tired from our journey.¡±


    ¡°You have a strange accent,¡± the gray mouse responded. ¡°We don¡¯t see many Chattels around here. Especially free ones.¡±


    Chattel was the word they used for humans. I tried my best to adapt to it.


    ¡°Yes¡­ we are free Chattel,¡± saying the word felt sour in my mouth. It felt like a slur against humans. ¡°My fellow friends here are¡­ umm¡­¡±


    I tried to pick out the words as best I could.


    ¡°New couple. New¡­¡±


    ¡°Newlyweds?¡± the gray mouse asked. And so I added a new word to my Dictionary card.


    ¡°Yes indeed. They are on their¡­ journey after newlywedding.¡± I stammered, faltering with Lokan.


    ¡°Honeymoon?¡± the gray mouse suggested, to which I added. I tried to avoid using any of my skill cards, as Orion had warned us not to reveal our classes or anything about ourselves.


    I nodded, mimicking the way the mouse farmer had done. ¡°I am¡­ guard for newlywed. We wish to¡­stay here for a short time.¡±


    I reached into my pocket for a gold coin with the picture of the phoenix queen, pulling it out to reveal it to the farmer. He examined it and then shook his head.


    ¡°A single Third? I¡¯ll need at least six 3rd mints to host all of you,¡± he said. ¡°We only have one spare room so you might have to share it if that¡¯s alright. Otherwise, you can sleep in the barn.¡±


    At first, I didn¡¯t understand the terms ''3rd mint'' or ''2nd mint.'' Then he showed me. I examined my coins and realized some were slightly different. The 3rd mints were much harder and duller in bright yellow than the 2nd and the 1st mints were extremely bright, while the queen in the picture had slightly shorter hair. We stood there for some time discussing it, Sophie nodding her head while Orion still watched the horizon.


    ¡°Make sense. The first mint is probably worth ten times as much. Think of it as a hundred-dollar bill, while the second mint is a ten-dollar bill,¡± Sophie whispered behind me in English. ¡°The third mint is maybe a dollar in value.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I whispered back in English.


    ¡°More gold in the first minting. It¡¯s a common tactic to debase currency,¡± Sophie replied. ¡°I should have looked at the coins more carefully. Offer him 3 Third mints and tell him we¡¯ll work for our board.¡±


    In total, we had 63 gold coins. When broken down, that included 9 First mints, 21 Second mints, and 33 Third mints


    ¡°My dear friend,¡± I reached for threeThird mints, ¡°I can offer you this. We are hard workers. Can help out.¡±


    I pointed to the fields, and the farmer brushed his hands on his whiskers. ¡°How long will you be staying?¡±


    ¡°Only for tonight and early tomorrow. We plan to head into town after.¡±


    The mouse man came over and I tried my best not to flinch as he pocketed the coin I held out for him. He turned his back and waved us to follow him.


    ¡°My name is Nibfoot. My wife over there is Thistletail.¡± The mouse introduced himself.


    ¡°I am¡­¡± I thought about lying, but what was the point? ¡°I am James. That is¡­¡±


    ¡°Clark,¡± Orion volunteered.


    ¡°Lois,¡± Sophie said, grinning.


    We hitched our elk and followed Nibfoot inside the archway to where his wife stood in front of the open door, smiling warmly. She nodded in recognition of us, almost lowered to a half bow in her enthusiasm.


    ¡°Company. And Chattel no less!¡± The brown mouse mused. ¡°Oh, I am so delighted. I rarely see Chattel. Come on in, come on in.¡±


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    The way they talked to us, it felt like we were children and they were our superiors, or at least they talked to us as some owners talked to their dogs. Orion¡¯s hands were hidden in his pockets. I knew he was hiding a dagger behind his cloak, but turned to him and shook my head in disapproval. We needed them to know we were no threats. No amount of soothing, though, would help relax the young rogue.


    Our hosts showed us to the guest room. The ceiling was much lower than I was used to, and I had to lower my head to get through the doorway. Inside was a feather mattress, a lamp, and an open window that showed a view of an ocean of barley and rye. There was a wool rug on the floor and a chamber pot.


    ¡°This is where you will stay,¡± the gray mouse, Nibfoot, said nodding peacefully. ¡°Please try not to destroy the room or else it¡¯ll be a 2nd. We had a pair of traveling merchants stay here recently and were not too kind to our sheets.¡±


    ¡°We will be very nice to your place,¡± I volunteered.


    ¡°Now as for work¡­ I need someone strong to help me make cheese,¡± Nibfoot huffed.


    Sophie and I both immediately looked at Orion, who, to my surprise, didn¡¯t look annoyed at us volunteering him for work.


    ¡°Thistletail will take care of you two. I¡¯m sure she has some chores you can help around the house.¡± Nibfoot said, leading Orion out of the house towards the barn.


    While Orion toiled away at cheese-making, Sophie was tasked with sweeping and dusting the house, and I found myself in the cellar, fumbling with candle-making. Thistletail, ever so pleased with herself, demonstrated the fine art of dipping wicks and slathering beeswax over molds.


    In between the drips and spills, I figured I might as well coax a few secrets out of her.


    We had opted to stay here instead of rushing to town to get our bearings. These simple farmers were bound to spill some useful gossip, and I could use the time to practice my Lokan, even if I still sounded like I was chewing gravel.


    While Thistletail left to get more beeswax and wick, I reached into my palms to pull out a new card I had acquired: ¡°Espionage - 1¡±.


    When the brown mouse came back, I quickly dispelled it back to my palms.


    ¡°So¡­ you call us free Chattel,¡± I asked Thistletail, running my hand through my beard ponderously as she placed the bucket of beeswax on the worktable. ¡°Why is that?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have any collars,¡± Thistletail talked in almost chirps. It was hard to make out her words. I tried to get her to expand on the word ¡°collars,¡± which was foreign to me at the time, and she explained later that it was a piece of silver around our necks bound by magic.


    The idea of this completely repulsed me.


    ¡°You best be careful,¡± Thistletail warned in almost a whisper. ¡°There are rumors of slavers and some bandit camp nearby. If folk see free Chattel, they will be most unkind. People will pay for information on the whereabouts of free Chattel.¡±


    Coming from anyone else it would have sounded like a threat, but this mouse woman was too kind to intend it anything else but a warning for us. I shuddered at this thought.


    This was a bad idea. Coming here. I wish I were back home in Thornhill. Back to my fields. Back to a simpler time.


    ¡°Are you alright, James? You are quite pale. I mean¡­ for a Chattel that is,¡± Thistletail laughed after she had said it, covering her long mousey nose with her bare pink hands.


    Before I could reply to her, the darkness of the cellar, only lit by the glass window peeking into the basement, was replaced with a completely different darkness. A familiar table sat before me. He sat there in black silks that flowed off of him like a waterfall.


    On the round table, I sat on laid all my cards, neatly arranged in order in bordered slots.


    My skill cards were arranged at my highest level.


    Golden Tongue - S


    Add unknown words to your Dictionary card to translate them.


    Polyglot - 3


    Polyglot Aura - Those around you have a better chance to bridge cultural and language barriers.


    Farming - 3


    Pest Control


    Assign a small area where small pests eating your crops will be destroyed. 24-hour cooldown.


    Harvest - 2


    Crafting - 1


    Espionage - 1


    Riding - 1


    Tracking - 1


    My class card had my main legendary skill beneath it with open slots.


    Diplomat - 5 - 1


    Golden Tongue - S


    Learn languages faster, decode and collect words into your Dictionary Card.


    ¡°Hello, old friend. I have been expecting you,¡± I said, bowing to the Dealer. He returned the gesture, all grace and mystery, like a nobleman at a court of shadows.


    A package wrapped in crimson ribbon drifted towards me, weightless as though carried by invisible hands. With a pull on the ribbon, the parcel fell away, revealing three cards that settled into a neat, floating line before me. Evenly spaced. Suspended in mid-air, just begging to be chosen.


    Beside my legendary skill, a rectangular slot flickered to life, glowing faintly¡ªa beacon of promise.


    I had been struggling to reach level five for a while. It felt like my progress had stalled after our prisoner was killed, and my Diplomat class didn¡¯t advance with the daily farming I had been tasked with. I managed to grind my way to level four despite the setback of not fulfilling my class duties, leveling slowly from three to four by teaching Sophie and Orion, Lokan. Bianca and Orion, the two highest levels in the village, had warned me about this encounter. They had already briefed the classholders on how, at level five, we¡¯d face the Dealer again. So, there was no shock, no surprise when it finally happened.


    The art on the first card was a man in a suit hiding behind a wall with a horn to his ear


    Wiretap - B


    You can target an area within 100 meters to listen in to with perfect clarity


    The second card was a man in a black suit surrounded by thick fog.


    Smoke Veil - B


    Send a blast of smoke that leaves enemies gasping for breath and reduces visibility. 600-second cooldown.


    The last card was a man in a suit with three masks in his hands, spread out like a fan hiding his face.


    Chameleon¡¯s Mask - B


    You can disguise yourself as any race, adapting your appearance to match any race in this world of your choice.


    His British voice was smooth and buttery as he said, ¡°A choice must be made. The cards are dealt.¡±


    I thought about what Thistletail said about free Chattel and selected Chameleon¡¯s Mask without hesitation. I wasn¡¯t going to be taken as Chattel. When the card was in hand, I slotted it into the free spot and the other two cards disappeared, blue wisps vanishing into the void.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder.¡± The Dealer told me. And like that, I was again back in the farmhouse¡¯s cellar.


    Time hadn¡¯t seemed to move, and Thistletail didn¡¯t so much as raise an eyebrow at the fact that I¡¯d been whisked away to another dimension and back. So, I kept on making candles, the rhythmic dipping and setting a strange comfort. It wasn¡¯t long before our little wax factory was interrupted by the sounds of Orion and Nibfoot hauling enormous wheels of cheese into the cellar, freshly brined and filling the cellar with a sharp tangy aroma.


    Later that evening, we gathered around the dinner table; the room bathed in the warm glow of our freshly made candles. Someone had thrown flowers into a vase, lavender by the smell of it. Thistletail and Nibfoot joined us for a simple meal¡ªclear glass noodles swimming in a cloudy broth, served alongside thick slices of barley bread with mixed wild seeds on the crust and generous slabs of goat cheese.


    The two farmer mice were euphoric by the end of dinner, and Sophie refilled their cups with special Thornville-blend tea.


    Once the table had been cleared, I gathered Orion and Sophie to brief them on everything Thistletail had told me. Orion¡¯s face turned a shade paler with every word, looking as though he might be sick, while Sophie¡¯s expression hardened into deep contemplation.


    We were in a tight spot, and we all knew it. Thistletail¡¯s revelations meant that getting into town unnoticed wasn¡¯t just a challenge¡ªit was a necessity. We couldn¡¯t let people know we were free Chattel. If we were to move forward, we¡¯d need a plan¡ªone that would keep us out of chains and one step ahead of those who¡¯d see us bound.

 Chapter 46

    Chapter 46


    Sophie


    Day 44 of First Landing, Day 4 on the Road


    It had been a dream to sleep in a proper bed again. I need to bring a mattress and pillow back to Thornhill, no question.


    Yesterday, we¡¯d all agreed that I¡¯d take the bed. I offered to sleep on the wool rug, but James and Orion¡ªbeing oh-so chivalrous¡ªfought over who would sleep on the floor. After their little contest, I ended up with the bed to myself, and the two of them on the floor.


    Lucky me.


    With no nosy eyes on me, I checked my cards and realized I was just one level away from being a level five merchant. No way was I leaving without closing a deal with Thistletail and Nibfoot¡ªI was so close to a new skill that I could taste it.


    While sweeping the house, I noticed several masks hanging on the wall near the second-floor hallway as decoration. My Lokan wasn¡¯t great, but I had to strike a deal for those masks given our little predicament with the matter of well... avoiding human slavery. I excused myself, pretending to use the outhouse, then slipped behind the barn to expand my wagon and pull out some more special tea.


    Breakfast was soft-boiled eggs with barley bread and some neon-green preserves with specks of yellow seeds. Orion had offered to cook, but Thistletail, the farmer¡¯s wife, insisted it was no trouble. I brought out my tea for them to try, and they drank it like it was their morning coffee fix.


    Orion passed, choosing the offered goat milk instead, while James sipped politely, adding a few spoonfuls of honey and goat milk to his cup. Even in small amounts, the tea gave you a warm, content feeling¡ªwaking you up without the harsh rush of caffeine. I had to remind myself not to indulge too much.


    Can¡¯t get high on my own supply, after all.


    ¡°This is delightful! What kind of tea is this?¡± Missus Thistletail asked.


    Our charming mouse host brought the teacup to her lips, letting the floral scent linger. The liquid had a soft blush, like the finest pink pinot. For me, it tasted grassy with notes of strawberry.


    ¡°Firecracker Berry,¡± I replied, using the Lokan word for tea, but sticking to the English name for the berry.


    ¡°Fye-ur cra-kur?¡± Nibfoot, Thistletail¡¯s husband, echoed, wrinkling his nose in delight after every sip. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of such a plant, but it¡¯s wonderful.¡±


    ¡°We have... more,¡± I attempted in Lokan before turning to James. ¡°Tell them we can sell them a bag if they¡¯re interested.¡±


    James translated swiftly, and I hung on every word. If I wanted to make it as a real merchant here, learning the language wasn¡¯t optional. My Polyglot skill was still stuck at level 1, and honestly, I probably should¡¯ve paid more attention back in class instead of pestering Orion. But hey, James could handle the translating for now, right?


    ¡°We¡¯ll take all you have, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± Nibfoot said eagerly, through James. Oh, he was hooked. Perfect. ¡°We don¡¯t have much gold, but we can offer candles¡ªor maybe a wheel of cheese.¡±


    Orion¡¯s eyes lit up at the mention of cheese, but I quickly shook my head. These farmers were poor. We couldn¡¯t squeeze that much out of them even if I wanted to. We could only spare them one serving, for our masks and my level up.


    ¡°There are several masks decorating your second floor. We¡¯d like two of those,¡± James requested.


    Thistletail shook her head gently. ¡°Those are for Lumindawn, our summer solstice festival,¡± she explained. ¡°They mean a lot to us. My husband and I met during Lumindawn. He was wearing a fox mask, and I was wearing a fox mask, and¡ªfunny enough¡ªwhen we finally took them off, we were both mice. Ever since then, we¡¯ve made a tradition of collecting Lumindawn masks every year and spending the festival trying to find each other in town.¡±


    She laughed softly, her fingers lightly grazing her husband¡¯s arm as they shared a tender, nostalgic glance. Two souls wrapped in the memory of that fateful night.


    ¡°All of them?¡± James asked, clearly trying to get the masks to hide me and Orion in town. ¡°We don¡¯t need all, just two. We¡¯ll return them once our business in Kronfeldt is done.¡±


    Nibfoot hesitated, taking another sip. He wanted the tea badly. ¡°I suppose we could lend you the rabbit and boar masks¡ªwe only got those last year.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem like a fair deal,¡± I pressed, which James translated. ¡°Just a rental for a whole bag of tea? Surely, there¡¯s something else you can offer. Maybe some bags of barley?¡±


    I could practically feel my Barter skill kicking in. I¡¯d take the mask rental for the tea, no problem¡ªbut I wanted to see what else I could get.


    Nibfoot shook his head. ¡°We need the barley for ourselves and the livestock. The rest goes to the Duke¡¯s tax collectors. These are his lands, after all.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t own the land?¡± James asked, his voice full of sympathy, though it was common for a feudal system.


    ¡°Nay. We keep what we make from the goats¡ªwool, cheese, and such¡ªbut not the crops. We keep a bit of the barley for our own needs, though. It¡¯s not so bad. Thistletail sells candles and wool in town, and we rent out rooms to travelers like you. We do alright,¡± Nibfoot said, sipping contentedly.


    ¡°A wheel of cheese. Tell him we want a wheel of cheese,¡± Orion cut in, almost bouncing.


    James, ever the diplomat, smiled and asked, ¡°What about a wheel of goat cheese, my good man?¡±


    Nibfoot laughed. ¡°A whole wheel of cheese for some tea? Are you mad? The best I can do is a quarter wheel.¡±


    Before James could respond, I shook my head. ¡°No deal.¡±


    Never take the first offer.


    Both Orion and James looked stunned, but I didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°We¡¯ll figure out something in town,¡± I said in English, a sly smile tugging at my lips. ¡°Plus, let them mull it over a bit... at least until the tea withdrawal hits. Right now, they think it¡¯s just a drink. Soon enough, they¡¯ll be like children craving candy.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re nice people,¡± Orion frowned. ¡°We should take the quarter and the mask rental.¡±


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    I gave him a pointed look. ¡°Nice doesn¡¯t pay the bills. We¡¯ve got a limited supply of tea, and we need to make the most of it.¡±


    ¡°You forget I¡¯m in charge of this expedition?¡± Orion whispered, his voice low and cutting.


    ¡°And I¡¯m in charge of the inventory,¡± I shot back, voice sweet but firm. ¡°You want to lug a wheel of cheese all the way to the city on your back?¡±


    His lips twitched in frustration, but he didn¡¯t say anything.


    Poor Orion, so soft-hearted. Business isn¡¯t for the faint of heart.


    Nibfoot interrupted the tension with a hesitant offer. ¡°Half a wheel. That¡¯s the best I can do.¡±


    I paused for effect, then smiled. ¡°Half a wheel... and our boarding fee of three Thirds back.¡±


    Nibfoot¡¯s face hardened, clearly not expecting a counter like that. His wife, sensing the brewing storm, gently placed a hand on his arm. ¡°It¡¯s alright, dear. They¡¯ve been helpful, and it¡¯s not like we¡¯re losing much.¡±


    Nibfoot¡¯s glare softened, but it was obvious he wasn¡¯t thrilled. Still, he grudgingly agreed, and I handed over the tea in a small clay jar, a month¡¯s supply if portioned out carefully. His nose twitched with delight as he took in the aroma. Perfect. They¡¯d be begging for more before the month was up.


    After helping them with the morning chores¡ªhauling water, feeding the goats, chopping wood, the usual¡ªwe saddled up our elk and rode towards the city. The masks were safely stowed in our bags, and the half-wheel of cheese would be waiting for us on the return trip. I watched as James gave both Thistletail and Nibfoot a warm hug before we rode off, waving to the couple until they disappeared behind us.


    If everyone in this land was that easy to deal with, this journey would be a breeze.


    On the road, I finally got the chance to check my skills. Barter had hit level three, unlocking a skill pack.


    Currency Exchange - C


    When you make a deal involving non-currency items, you¡¯re more likely to persuade others to trade in the currency you prefer.


    Word of Mouth - C


    You bring in more customers as a positive word of mouth spreads more quickly.


    Fire Sale - C


    Get rid of undesirable or defective products more easily.


    I wrinkled my nose at Fire Sale. What kind of merchant wants to be known for selling junk? Word of Mouth could be useful when I had more stock, but right now? Limited supply meant I needed to squeeze every drop of value out of it. Currency Exchange was the clear winner. I could already see how I could exploit it.


    As I made my selection, a thrill surged through me¡ªI¡¯d finally reached level five in my Merchant class. The Dealer¡¯s realm beckoned. The bright sky darkened into an unsettling void, leaving only a table between me and the ominous Dealer. He loomed in the shadows, a figure cloaked in promises both tantalizing and dangerous.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve been waiting for this!¡± I yelped excitedly as I found myself in the Dealer¡¯s realms. The air crackled with energy, and my heart raced as he pulled out a card booster pack. I tore into it with the kind of glee usually reserved for birthdays.


    Master of Arms - B


    Your wagon contains a specialized weapon rack that allows you to instantly summon any weapon stored within it to your side.


    Freezer - C


    A built-in compartment in your wagon can freeze food items, preserving their freshness and extending their shelf life.


    Void Bound Contract - B


    You have the ability to forge Contract cards at any time. Once signed, all participants must honor the terms as strictly as reasonably possible. Each contract is written in Void Script.


    The idea of summoning weapons in battle was tempting, but I wasn¡¯t planning on specializing in combat anytime soon. Freezer was practical, sure, but not exactly what I needed right now. But Void Bound Contract? Magic-backed contracts? Now that was power. I chose it without hesitation, feeling the card slide into place.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until next time, fellow holder,¡± the Dealer intoned, and in a blink, I was back on the road, riding my elk toward the gates of Kronfeldt.


    Ahead, the walled city emerged, its stone fortifications looked newly erected. Surrounding it, fields of golden grain rippled in the wind, encircling the town like a golden crown. To the west, a bustling boardwalk jutted into the lake, crowded with rickety shacks and boats bobbing lazily in the water. Beyond, a narrow valley funneled the river toward the city, merchant vessels slipping through its currents with a steady hum of trade. Surrounding the city and valley, the mountain ranges closed in, their base riddled with the scars of countless mines.


    Near the walls of the city sat a stable with rough-hewn timber beams hatched with brown clay tiles. The scent of hay and manure filled the air, along with the soft snorts and low winnies of horses and mules as we approached.


    This was it¡ªour next stop. As we neared the gates, Orion and I slipped on our masks: mine a rabbit, his a boar.


    Before we could make contact with anyone in the stable, James pulled out a card and transformed into a mouse-man, resembling the local inhabitants. The mouse-man looked strikingly like him, complete with long, parted brown hair and a tuft of fur on his chin. Even the expression on his face mirrored that familiar, pleased look that James always wore.


    The stable was quiet, save for the rhythmic sweeping of an otter stablehand and the occasional snort from the mules and horses being tended by a large badger. Both of them stopped in their tracks, wide-eyed as they watched our elk approach.


    James, ever the diplomat, took the lead. ¡°My name is James. These are Clark and Lois,¡± he said, gesturing to the two masked riders on the elk beside him. Despite having spent only a day with the farmers, the words of Lokan flowed from his mouth like honey. ¡°We would like to stable our mounts here at your fine establishment.¡±


    He pulled out a First mint coin, its gold glinting in the light as he held it between his fingers.


    The badger, who had introduced himself as Hardclaw, narrowed his eyes. ¡°Never seen elk used as mounts before. Though I have heard of strange mounts in the Hidden Kingdom or Dunjara¡­ You folks ain''t from around here, are ye? Name¡¯s Hardclaw. I run things here.¡±


    James nodded, keeping the conversation light. ¡°Aye, we come from an island village off the Azure Coast. Our elk are well-trained, just keep them away from wolves.¡±


    Hardclaw grunted, still eyeing our masks with some suspicion. ¡°Lumindawn ain¡¯t for a few months yet.¡±


    James barely missed a beat. ¡°Ah, yes. I¡¯m their guide, and these two are newlyweds,¡± he said, with a quick bow. ¡°It¡¯s a tradition in our village not to show one''s face during a honeymoon. Consider it a quirk of our people.¡±


    As if James cast a charm spell on the suspicious badger, Hardclaw¡¯s posture softened, the suspicion fading from his eyes. He gave a slow nod, seeming to accept the explanation, though he still cast a glance at the elk. ¡°Well, I ain¡¯t ever hosted elk before. The standard rate¡¯s five Thirds a day, but for these creatures... I¡¯ll need a deposit of at least one First.¡±


    James shot me a look, clearly asking for my approval. Instead of answering right away, I rummaged through my bags and pulled out a small teapot, offering Hardclaw a smile. ¡°Can we discuss this after some tea?¡±

 Chapter 47

    Chapter 47


    Sophie


    Day 44, Day 4 on the Road


    Hardclaw, the stable master, was a stubborn badger. No amount of flirting or bartering could sway him from his demand for a First Mint gold coin, a coin worth nearly 100 Thirds, as a deposit for stabling our elk.


    "This is some wonderful tea, Miss Lois," said Tidewisk, the young stablehand, his otter-like face gleaming with pleasure. "I''d love some honeycakes to go with it."


    ¡°Thank you! And how do you like the tea, Hardclaw?¡± I turned to the gruff badger, hoping to soften his resolve.


    As it turned out, badgers were much harder to read than otters or mice. Hardclaw sipped cautiously, his eyes narrowing as if weighing every drop. ¡°Aye, it¡¯s fine, but it doesn¡¯t change my terms,¡± he growled, putting his foot down. ¡°I can do ye one Second per night for the lot, lass.¡±


    One Second Mint was worth about ten Third Mints, so he was knocking five Thirds off the total price. Not bad, really. I watched my Currency Exchange skill take effect, boosted by my Merchant class.


    ¡°Miss Lois will get a contract so we can finalize the deal,¡± I instructed James, who stood ready to translate my words.


    ¡°Contract?¡± Hardclaw¡¯s brow arched in surprise, not expecting such formality.


    With a casual smile, I turned on my heel and strolled toward the elk¡¯s saddlebag, but I slipped behind a cluster of nearby trees. There, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Contract skill card.


    When I tapped it, a piece of parchment materialized, hovering in the air before me. The parchment shimmered¡ªunless signed within the hour, it would vanish. A magical blue quill appeared beside it, poised and ready for my signature.


    Stabling Agreement


    Date: Fira (May) 7, 611 IE


    Provider of Service: Kronfeldt Ironhoof Stables


    Agreement:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">Services Provided: The Stable agrees to keep our three elk¡ªComet, Olive, and Rudolph¡ªfed and in good condition, including feeding, brushing, and providing basic care.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">Confidentiality: The Stable Master Hardclaw, stablehand Tidewisk, and any other employees of the Ironhoof Stable agree not to answer any questions regarding the elk¡¯s owners.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">Liability: The Stable Master is liable for the death of any elk due to negligence or willful misconduct and will replace any elk loss with a suitable mount.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">Payment: I agree to pay the Stable Master, Hardclaw, one Second Mint per day for the stabling of three elk.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">Deposit and Damages: I agree to forfeit my deposit of one First Mint if I fail to make payment or if any damages are caused by my elk to the stable.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">End of Service: I will notify the stable at the end of the service term, at which point any outstanding fees will be paid to the Stable Master before withdrawing the elk.</li>


    </ul>


    Signatures:


    ____________________________________________________________________________


    ____________________________________________________________________________


    Interesting. Our calendar day matches the one from our previous world, but the year is based on a different era. I would have to tell the others about this. My Contract card can act as a calendar.


    A naughtier side of me considered how I might exploit the contract system, but I dismissed the thought immediately. My terms had to be fair and straightforward¡ªno hidden clauses, no fine print, just a simple exchange, albeit with a slight edge in my favor. After all, if my contracts were too unreasonable, I couldn''t be sure if the Void would enforce them. And if someone were desperate enough to wriggle out of a harsh contract, there was one surefire way to do so: a knife in my back.


    I knew the minute I acquired fortune, there would be a target on my back¡ªno need to give them any more ammo. But right now, I was just a small fry making a deal to stable my elk.


    With that caution in mind, I returned to the stable, quill in hand, with the contract ready. In Hardclaw¡¯s hands, the text transformed into void script, translating into his native tongue.


    What struck me as strange was that when rendered in Lokan¡ªthe language plastered outside on the stable¡¯s signs¡ªit appeared in Latin script, as James pointed out. For me, many of the letters were recognizable, but others were either missing or replaced with odd symbols.


    Hardclaw read the contract aloud for Tidewisk, who couldn¡¯t decipher it himself, and then he signed with a flourish. I added my signature, feeling a twinge of loss as I handed over a First Mint coin and two Second Mints. The stable master accepted the coins. He took the reins as our elk were ushered into three empty stalls, tucked away from the other animals.


    After signing the contract, it split into two blue cards, which we each took. It was strange that the stablemaster and stablehand didn''t hesitate when the magical cards were offered. The two stablemen regarded the matter as if it were an ordinary fact of life.


    ¡°Only two coins? You¡¯ll be only stabling for two nights, then?¡± Hardclaw remarked.


    ¡°We¡¯ll settle the rest later if we stay longer," James translated for me, keeping the conversation light.


    It would¡¯ve been easy to pay in advance, but I figured two days was a prudent start. Having cash on hand is better than tying it up in a contract, and we needed every coin we could muster.


    As we headed toward the town gates, Hardclaw asked, with mild interest, ¡°Where did you buy that tea?¡±


    Ah, good. We had him hooked.


    I could see the gears turning in his mind, a flicker of intrigue sparking behind his cautious demeanor.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a specialty blend,¡± I replied, weaving my words with just the right amount of charm. ¡°Only the best for my friends.¡±


    ¡°Friends, eh?¡± he mused, leaning against a stall, his badger nose twitching. ¡°Might be worth a looking into, then.¡±


    ¡°The tea is harvested from the high mountains in our village. Each berry is aged and dried with care. We plan to sell some in town.¡± James gave his best sales pitch.


    ¡°Oh, I suppose I could check it out if I have some time later¡­¡± Hardclaw mused, and we bid him farewell.


    With our elk settled, we made our way toward the main south gate. At the gate, two ratmen guards stopped us for the toll fee, which was one Third each. There was no negotiating with these hard-faced men. I instinctively pulled my hoodie¡ªHerman¡¯s rain jacket he¡¯d loaned me¡ªover my head, hoping they wouldn¡¯t notice the human features behind my mask.


    Somehow, James managed to convince the guards to overlook our masks, pretending to be outraged that they were violating our village¡¯s honeymoon tradition of wearing them.


    Thankfully, we didn¡¯t have to pay a wagon fee, which was ten percent of the value of the suspected cargo, since my small portable wagon was viewed as just a trinket.


    After gate fees and stabling, our total came to:


    8 First mints


    19 Second mints


    30 Third mints


    I didn¡¯t like the fact that we were currently operating at a loss, but that would soon change, right?


    From the main southern gates, one main road stretched down to the pier, where stout buildings, a mix of stone and weathered wood, clung to the shoreline. The road hugged the lake¡¯s edge, winding toward the distant mountains, where carts full of ore rattled down, their wheels grinding over the cobblestones, bound for the smelters. Even from where we stood, the constant clanging of hammers against metal filled the air, accompanied by the acrid scent of smelting mixed with the fresh, briny odor of fish pulled from the lake¡¯s depths.


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    It reeked something awful. Fish, rendering plants, and sewage.


    To the right, the roads narrowed, but they were noticeably better maintained, winding uphill toward the brighter, cleaner parts of town. We could see the well-kept estates in the distance, bathed in sunlight, where the nobility undoubtedly lived, far from the din and grime of the industry near the piers.


    We opted for the main road, drawn toward the lively boardwalks by the lake, where fishermen hawked their latest catch from wooden stalls. The wet markets, bustling with activity, lined the solid piers, their tables crowded with live animals¡ªfoxes, rabbits, and even bats¡ªcaged and waiting to be sold. The cries of merchants and the chatter of customers haggling blended into a steady hum.


    Next to the stalls stood storefronts, with wooden facades and large glass windows, almost wild west in style, showcasing their wares. Orion¡¯s gaze lingered on one in particular¡ªa jewelry shop, its window filled with gleaming silverware and intricate pieces of jewelry, each one catching the light and reflecting it in dazzling patterns.


    ¡°Oooh,¡± I said, coming alongside Orion and resting my chin on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. ¡°Buying me a gift, dearest?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re taking our cover story a little too seriously,¡± Orion murmured.


    ¡°You¡¯re not taking it seriously enough. Aren¡¯t newlyweds supposed to act close? We¡¯re in danger if you don¡¯t put more effort into our ''relationship'', dearest~¡± I whispered in his ear. He blushed in response.


    ¡°I need to sell some rocks in here.¡± Orion reached into his pockets. ¡°You¡¯ve got the Barter skill. Can you get anything for these?¡±


    I scrutinized the two stones, each with a gemstone the size of a marble glimmering within.


    "Now, where did get those?" I asked, flashing a greedy grin. "You¡¯ve been holding out on me, husband~"


    "A friend," Orion said flatly, no further explanation offered.


    Just then, the sharp ¡°chack-chack¡± of a bird caught my attention. A dark blue corvid the size of an owl had landed atop the shop''s sign, ruffling its feathers in satisfaction.


    Meanwhile, James¡ªplaying the part of a wide-eyed tourist disguised as a mouse man¡ªwas questioning one of the market sellers, fascinated by the live animals on display. When I called him over, he cheerfully excused himself, and the three of us sauntered into the luxury goods shop.


    Inside, a hulking boar-man in dark leather armor stood like a sentinel by the door. His eyes narrowed, grip tightening on his glaive as soon as he noticed our foreign appearance and our masks. Behind the glass counters, a small, shrew-faced man in a black silk bowl hat peered at a diamond through a lens, his sharp nose twitching with excitement until he got a good look at us. His enthusiasm quickly soured.


    "Welcome to Fizzynose¡¯s Gem and Treasures Emporium," the shrew said, his thin smile doing little to hide the skepticism in his eyes. He glanced nervously at the boar who stood guard as if we were about to pull something.


    ¡°And a splendid day to you, kind sir,¡± James replied, sweeping into an exaggerated bow. ¡°I am James, and these two are nobles from a far-off land known as New York. They''ve brought some rather unique gems to sell, and they expect a fair price, naturally.¡±


    James handed over Orion¡¯s two stones, and Fizzynose immediately pulled out his magnifying glass. He examined the first¡ªa clear gem nestled in black granite¡ªand nodded like it was nothing special. Then, he looked at the second, a larger pink gem, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise before he quickly masked his reaction with a quiet cough.


    ¡°Hmm... decent enough common stones,¡± Fizzynose said, pretending to be bored. ¡°I¡¯ll offer you two Seconds for the first, and... one First for the second.¡± He returned the stones like they were a bother.


    ¡°That seems¡ª¡± James started, but I cut him off.


    ¡°We¡¯re done here. This guy¡¯s an idiot,¡± I muttered in Lokan, throwing in just enough disdain to sell it.


    I spun on my heel, pretending to storm out, but Fizzynose, predictably, panicked. "Wait, wait! My sincerest apologies. I might have rushed my evaluation. Please, good sir, let me take another look."


    Feigning patience, I let James hand over the stones again. Fizzynose made a big show of re-examining them, nodding like a sage. His whiskers twitched with nerves.


    "Upon closer inspection," he said, ¡°I can offer three Seconds for the first... and perhaps two Firsts for the second.¡±


    This time, when he handed the stones back, there was a bit more hesitation in his fingers.


    I wandered the shop, ignoring his second pathetic offer. My eyes landed on a stunning blue diamond, perched on black velvet under glass. "How much for that?"


    Fizzynose twitched, clearly not expecting my interest in purchasing rather than selling. "That? Well¡­ I suppose I could let it go for three Firsts."


    "Done," I said, already reaching for my coin purse.


    The shrew almost jumped out of his skin. "No¡ªwait. It¡¯s not three Firsts. I misspoke," he stammered, wiping sweat from his brow. ¡°It¡¯s... five Firsts. My sincerest apologies for the confusion.¡±


    James stepped in with a smirk. ¡°This diamond is smaller than the one we¡¯re selling. Pink diamonds are much rarer, and in my opinion, far more exquisite. You, sir, are trying to cheat us.¡±


    At James¡¯s accusation, the shrew wiped his brow with a handkerchief.


    ¡°You must understand, those gems aren¡¯t processed or cut yet. That costs money. Plus, they¡¯ll sit on my shelf until I find a buyer. I need to make a profit too,¡± Fizzynose explained frantically.


    ¡°Five Seconds for the first gem, 50 Seconds, and 100 Thirds for the second,¡± I countered, hoping my skill Currency Exchange would help. It¡¯s easier to deal in smaller denominations, and I could always convert up later if needed.


    ¡°That¡¯s highway robbery! I¡¯ll barely make any profit,¡± Fizzynose protested. ¡°Three Seconds for the first, 35 Seconds, and 90 Thirds for the second.¡±


    ¡°Four Seconds for the first, 40 Seconds, and 100 Thirds for the second. Final offer.¡± I crossed my arms, sensing I could squeeze more out of him, but deciding to go for information instead. ¡°And you will provide us with information as well.¡±


    Fizzynose sighed and exited through an iron door, unlocking it with one of his many keys. It slammed shut behind him as the boar guard remained on high alert.


    When Fizzynose returned with two pouches, he counted out the coins on the exchange table, and we handed over the stones. Before he could take them, I stopped him.


    ¡°Information,¡± I demanded.


    Fizzynose¡¯s face twisted with annoyance. ¡°What?¡±


    "I need to know your most esteemed client and directions to the finest establishment in town..." James translated, his eyes widening as he continued, "... the highest-end bordello."


    When Fizzynose didn¡¯t understand the English word for "bordello," James had to resort to awkward pantomimes, thrusting his hips and making kissy faces, much to my amusement.


    ¡°The Silk Lotus is the best-known bordello for cleanliness and service. I¡¯ve never been myself,¡± Fizzynose lied, ¡°but I hear it serves wealthy clientele. As for my most valuable client¡­ my customers value privacy, as I¡¯m sure you would appreciate that fact.¡±


    Well, it was worth a shot.


    If Fizzynose hadn¡¯t given me more information, I could always find the town¡¯s elite through the bordello.


    Orion pocketed the 44 Seconds and 100 Thirds from the transaction and left the shop, with us following.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I shouted after him as he walked off with the money.


    Outside, Orion filled a small leather bag with pebbles he picked up from the ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s that for?¡± James asked.


    ¡°Decoy,¡± Orion said, tying the fake coin purse to his belt while hiding the real one deep inside his apron near his chest. ¡°You guys should be wary of pickpockets.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t I get a commission for sealing that deal?¡± I asked Orion, pouting with my hands on my hips.


    He handed me one Second, then gave James another Second. ¡°Don¡¯t spend it all in one place, you two.¡±


    I held out my hand, and Orion added one more Second and 10 Thirds to both me and James.


    ¡°We should split it three ways,¡± James half-heartedly suggested.


    ¡°They¡¯re my gems,¡± Orion said, finality in his tone.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. We¡¯ll make some coin of our own,¡± I said, pocketing the small stack Orion handed me.


    The money and inventory we¡¯d earned so far belonged to the village. But the cash we¡¯d just made from the gem? That was ours to keep. There were plenty of ways to make money in this town without dipping into Thornhill¡¯s coffers. I had a sneaking suspicion Orion was eyeing the food district to pad his purse. I¡¯d have to bring it up with Bianca later, though I wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled about paying taxes on our hard-earned coin.


    Our group wandered the back alley of the storefronts to withdraw items from my portable wagon and discuss our plans. Wanting to just breathe a little easier, we took our masks and started dressing in finer clothing for the town. Secluded and shut off, this would be our meeting place and place where I could unload my cart.


    ¡°Why the curiosity about the bordello?¡± Orion raised a brow, giving me a sly look. ¡°If you¡¯re thinking of selling your body, I¡¯ve recently come into some funds¡­¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Not even close. I¡¯m not about to stoop that low. I¡¯d make a pretty pathetic merchant if I had to resort to selling my body. High-end bordellos attract high-end clients. Perfect place to peddle our goods.¡±


    ¡°You two enjoy yourselves, then. I¡¯m off to the food district. Gotta make my living as a cook,¡± Orion picked up his mask, some supplies, and his copper wok, which he strapped to his back.


    Wanting to rattle him a little, I leaned in close and whispered, ¡°If you want my body, Orion, you don¡¯t need any coin. Just be a man and join me in bed at the inn tonight.¡±


    His face flushed instantly, and he stumbled mid-step. I laughed, savoring the effect.


    ¡°Find us a decent inn,¡± I suggested as we split off¡ªOrion heading to the food district, while James and I made our way toward the wealthier part of town. ¡°And don¡¯t forget¡ªyou¡¯re footing the bill for our stay. Don¡¯t think I¡¯ll let you weasel out of my commission.¡±


    ¡°Meet back here by sunset!¡± James hollered after Orion as he disappeared down the alley.


    Collapsing my portable wagon, James and I headed uphill, passing the sleek granite buildings. The one we stopped at stood out with its smooth walls, iron-grilled arched windows, and a large, ornately carved wooden door with a giant flowering lotus marking the keystone.

 Chapter 48

    Chapter 48


    Orion


    Day 44, Day 4 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    In the heart of the city, wagons of produce were being unloaded at various food stands. Along the main street, hawkers on the left side called out, peddling fresh fruits and vegetables, their sellers shouting at beastkin passing by, waving samples in their hands. Beyond the produce, large burlap sacks of grain, salt, and spices were stacked in front of wood booths.


    On the right, near the lake, stalls offered lake-caught fish and crayfish, along with butchered pheasants and the hanging carcasses of lambs and pigs. Sausages dangled from hooks, and dark organ meats lay next to clay plates. In another stall, brown and white eggs were piled high, forming a pyramid atop a large bowl.


    I was unfamiliar with most of the vegetables and fruits being offered, save the cabbages streaked with bright purple veins and the carrots in shades of brown, red, and orange. One fruit stall had green cherry tomatoes in wooden crates, tucked away behind other fruits, nearly hidden from display.


    My Lokan wasn¡¯t perfect, but I could manage after spending time with the goat farmers. Unlike Sophie, I had taken my lessons with James seriously. I had leveled my Polyglot skill to 2. Sophie, as smart as she was, figured she could lean on James for translations and focus on the financial side of trading.


    I approached the fruit vendor and pointed to the green tomatoes. ¡°How much?¡±


    The vendor, a mouse-like creature similar to the farmers I¡¯d seen, sized me up and then offered a price. My travel-worn clothes must have made me look like a beggar. Maybe out of pity, he gave me a fair price.


    ¡°Three thirds,¡± he said.


    ¡°For one?¡± It sounded high, but the vendor shook his head.


    ¡°For all,¡± he clarified.


    ¡°Why so low?¡± I asked, hesitant. I knew I should haggle, but that seemed like a bargain.


    ¡°People think they¡¯re poison: the voidblasted fools!¡± His squeaky voice, full of indignation, made his outrage oddly endearing.


    It made sense. Tomatoes, like other nightshades, were once feared as poisonous when first introduced in Europe, and it seems the same was true here. I picked up one of the small cherry tomatoes and popped it into my mouth. The vendor didn¡¯t seem to mind. The tomato was a bit bland and tart, though with a savory undertone.


    ¡°I¡¯ll come back for them,¡± I said, declining the vendor¡¯s offer to show me more of his wares. ¡°I don¡¯t have a cart.¡±


    I continued browsing through the stalls. As expected, spices were the most expensive items¡ªa jar of cinnamon bark nearly cost a Second. According to Sophie, a Second mint was roughly worth ten dollars, while a First was a hundred dollars, and a Third just one. Of course, this was just a rough estimate, as, in reality, a Third could easily represent a day¡¯s wage for an average citizen here.


    I had:


    40 Second mints


    80 Third mints


    I needed to spend it carefully. There were two reasons I traveled alone.


    First, I could make more money while Sophie handled things her way, doubling our potential earnings; second, I wanted to level up my Cook class by creating better recipes. With that in mind, I was browsing the market for certain items, trying to get inspiration for what I could sell in my stall.


    Another vendor sold various starches¡ªyams, lotus root, cassava, carrots, and other unfamiliar roots, all neatly arranged in wooden bins. The vendor, a bunny-faced figure with white fur and gray patches around his eyes, wore a bright red linen tunic.


    In the back corner of his stall, I noticed pink-skinned potatoes, long and tuber-like. When I asked their name, he told me the Lokan word for potato. He sliced one and offered me a piece, but I declined, not wanting to eat raw potatoes. Like the tomatoes, these too were priced low due to their association with nightshades.


    A side street cut into the main road, winding down toward a narrower cobblestone path. Unlike the food peddlers on the main street, these stalls offered cooked food. A sudden sense of urgency hit me¡ªI was missing the lunch rush. Miners and sailors crowded the street vendors, sitting on tiny wood stools barely off the ground, eating from wooden trays before returning them to the stalls.


    Permanent buildings lined the street beside the wooden food stalls ¡ª bakeries, a sweet shop, an upscale spice shop, and a teahouse.


    The prepared food stalls had a familiar yet exotic air, reminiscent of lively Asian markets, yet they were backed by a mix of Western frontier storefronts and cobbled medieval European architecture. The scent of frying fish and charcoal-grilled meat filled the air, mingling with the spices of curries simmering in pots. Exotic meats were chopped and served over bowls of porridge, while steamed dumplings were dipped in dark, rich sauces. Nearby, spiral dough, golden and crisp, was drenched in honey and syrup.


    Navigating through the crowd, I spotted a food hawker with nearly no customers. His stools sat empty, and the black-furred ratman, clearly irritated, was scolding passersby who borrowed his stools to eat food from his competitors.


    He was frying pancakes with onions on a blackened griddle, and beside him, a large pot simmered with pale gray meatballs speckled with long green chives. Spotting me, he smiled warmly and beckoned me over.


    ¡°Half-off special! Two extra meatballs and a free onion pancake, sir! Only one Third!¡±


    The smell made my stomach growl, having not eaten since the morning, so I accepted. He handed me a wood tray with six meatballs and a folded onion pancake, drizzling a rich brown gravy over it before nodding and clasping his hands.


    ¡°Enjoy your meal, sir.¡±


    I pulled up a stool at his counter, feeling uneasy under his watchful gaze. I turned my back to him for some privacy, pulling my hood low and lifting my mask just enough to eat.


    The meal wasn¡¯t bad. The meatballs were a bit bland, and the gravy tasted faintly of fish sauce but lacked depth. The onion pancake was the highlight¡ªsweet, savory, and crisp. I used the last of it to wipe up the remaining gravy before handing the tray back to the vendor.


    ¡°What did you think?¡± he asked, his voice nervous.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± I replied honestly.


    However, there was a reason this place wasn¡¯t crowded. It was just okay. Nothing that would make me go out of my way to return. There was another problem, too¡ªhe was boiling the meat in water. Sure, it made sense for the meal, and I¡¯m sure it was traditional for him, but for a stall? You need the smell of sizzling meat to draw in customers.


    ¡°How much for this,¡± I asked, circling my index finger around the entire stall to show him I wanted it all.


    The stall had a decent location, wedged between a popular fried dough vendor and a busy brick-and-mortar bakery with good foot traffic.


    The rat vendor wiped his brow with a towel, pausing as if weighing his decision. His lockbox was open, revealing a dozen Thirds in one compartment, a couple of Seconds in another, and one empty compartment where his Firsts had likely gone. He sighed as he dropped the Third coin I¡¯d left on the counter into the box.


    He shook his head as I turned to leave.


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    I needed to find an empty stall to start cooking and selling food.


    Before I could wander into the bakery next door, a tall boar-man with tawny fur and twisted tusks, approached the rat vendor with a delivery. His tree trunk arms were lifting a giant crate of minced red meat.


    ¡°Ground venison,¡± the boar announced, hauling a wooden crate from his hand-pulled cart.


    ¡°How much do I owe you, Gnarltusk?¡± the rat asked nervously.


    ¡°Slink, your tab¡¯s at one First and three Seconds,¡± Gnarltusk said expectantly holding a hand out.


    ¡°One First? That¡¯s ridiculous!¡± Slink yelped.


    ¡°Yar haven¡¯t paid for your shipments in a month, Slink. That¡¯s with interest, ya damn rat!¡±


    ¡°Listen... I can make it back. L-let me sell today¡¯s meat, and I¡¯ll pay you. I don¡¯t have that money here.¡±


    ¡°Slink. My partner says if you don¡¯t give me at least one First, I can¡¯t sell to you anymore. I¡¯ve heard your excuses before, so hand over the coin or I¡¯ll break something worth a First.¡± Gnarltusk reached across the counter, grabbing Slink by the tunic and shaking him.


    ¡°I... I can give you three Seconds,¡± the rat stammered. ¡°That¡¯s all I have, I swear.¡±


    Gnarltusk slammed a cleaver down on the counter, causing the rat to let out a high-pitched squeal. He grabbed Slink¡¯s arm and pressed it to the counter. ¡°If I don¡¯t get my First by the end of the day, I¡¯ll take another finger.¡±


    Just as Gnarltusk raised the cleaver to swing down, I gripped his wrist tightly from behind.


    ¡°What the¡ª?¡± the boar yelped, turning to look at me, a stranger wearing a boar mask. His stale breath blasted into my face as he snarled, ¡°This doesn¡¯t concern you, friend.¡±


    I held out ten Seconds¡ªthe equivalent of one First¡ªbefore letting go of his wrist.


    ¡°You¡¯ll... you¡¯ll pay my debt?¡± Slink asked, wide-eyed.


    ¡°For the stall,¡± I said. ¡°Give me the stall, and I¡¯ll pay the debt.¡±


    ¡°But... this is my livelihood.¡± Slink looked around, taking in the small world that was his stall.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, turning to leave, knowing what would come next.


    ¡°WAIT!¡± Slink shouted. ¡°Give me at least 13 Seconds. That way, I¡¯ll have something left to start again. Please.¡±


    It felt like a waste of money, and if Sophie were here, she¡¯d scold me for being soft. But what did it matter? I needed to get ready before the dinner rush. I needed to level. I was stuck at level 8 of my Cook class, aiming to push to level 10.


    I reached under my apron for the coin bag strapped to my chest, pulling out three more Seconds and handing them to the rat. My total coinage after the exchange would be 27 Second mints and 79 Thirds. Slink handed 13 of the coins to the boar, emptying his lockbox.


    The boar, now grinning broadly, had shed the rough demeanor of a debt collector, and instead adopted the easy charm of a seasoned salesman. "Looking for meats? The Tusk brothers have the finest quality you can find in all of Kronfeldt."


    Beside him, the rat vendor moved with a slow, deliberate heaviness. He handed me the key to the lockbox, a small, weathered thing that felt more symbolic than practical. He pulled out a card from his palms, offering it to me with an unmistakable air of reluctance, as though surrendering more than just a simple object. When I tapped the card, a faint blue glow materialized, outlining the lot and my area of possession.


    Lot Deed


    Lot Size: 5 x 5


    Lot Number: 14-B


    Location: Crust Road


    Owner: Orion Sterling


    Interesting, a deed system that is usable by people without a class. I¡¯m guessing Bianca needs to grow her village to unlock this.


    ¡°Where are you going to go?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Back to the mines, I guess,¡± Slink sighed. ¡°I had a dream once... of being a cook. Thought everyone would come to my stall for my famous meatballs. I guess it wasn¡¯t meant to be.¡± He packed his belongings, and strapped a rucksack to his back, glancing at his stall with regret.


    ¡°I hope you have better luck with this place than I did,¡± the rat sighed, his head downcast as he strapped a rucksack filled with his belongings onto his back. He pulled on a wool cap and gave me a final nod. ¡°There¡¯s a latch to the cellar with whatever food I haven¡¯t used yet. Good luck, friend.¡±


    After he left, I decided to check out the bakery, leaving my stall for the moment. As I walked, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I was being followed, with a prickle crawling up the back of my neck.


    Inside the bakery, long, bamboo-like bread loaves spilled out of baskets, and glazed confections sat temptingly on wooden trays at the center of the shop. A tawny-furred rabbit in an apron bounced around, helping customers with their purchases, while a white-furred rabbit with bold black stripes spiraling around his muscular arms worked the stone oven behind the counter.


    The place was overflowing with bread¡ªmassive sourdough rounds piled high in wicker baskets, plate-shaped loaves stacked in neat columns. I didn¡¯t find exactly what I was looking for among the bread, but I spotted a small round bun on a confectionery table.


    I picked it up, sniffing the soft, seed-covered bun. The rabbit hopped over, her whiskers twitching. ¡°Those are delightful,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Filled with custard and wildberry jam. Only one Third for three.¡±


    I handed her a coin and bit into the bun. The soft brioche bread melted in my mouth as sweet custard and jam oozed from the center, a bit of it escaping to the corner of my lip, which I quickly licked away.


    ¡°Can you make a hundred of these buns for me?¡± I asked.


    ¡°One hundred?¡± The rabbit¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°Yes, but no filling, just plain.¡± I gestured to the bun, shaking my head at the oozing custard to emphasize what I meant.


    ¡°No filling? My husband can bake anything to order. When do you need them?¡± she asked, her ears perking up.


    ¡°As soon as possible,¡± I replied, handing over my Lot card, which she inspected for the address.


    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re right next door. I take it Slink finally sold the place? No need for a delivery fee then,¡± she laughed softly. ¡°One hundred plain buns will be¡­ let¡¯s say, 1 Second and 4 Thirds. Sound good?¡±


    I had no clue what the price should be, but I nodded anyway. ¡°Sounds good.¡±


    I handed over the coins, watching as she tucked them into a pouch at her waist. I had to resist the sudden urge to pat her on the head¡ªthis was a person, after all.


    That¡¯d definitely be considered assault. Don¡¯t do it.


    ¡°In case we don¡¯t deliver, you know where to find us,¡± the rabbit chuckled, walking off to the back to relay the order.


    With that sorted, I headed for the produce section. I moved quickly, trying to slip through the crowd. That¡¯s when I felt it¡ªa bump, way too obvious to be accidental. I glanced back to see a hooded figure darting through the market. My pouch was gone.


    I sighed. Great. Without rushing, I pulled up my hood and ducked into an alley, activated my Tracking and Shadow Walk abilities. My eyes followed the faint trail of the thief. Above, my jackdaw companion, JD, flew ahead, scouting the path.


    The tracks led to the docks, where the hooded figure slipped behind a tavern catering to sailors. Hidden behind barrels, the thief met up with an accomplice. From my vantage point, I watched them¡ªa small gray cat, round 5 feet, and an even smaller orange tabby, practically a kitten.


    They were overjoyed at their haul, but their excitement didn¡¯t last long. Their faces fell as they opened the pouch, only to find a handful of pebbles.


    I approached, my stiletto drawn, and both of them puffed up in fear.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take my bag back,¡± I said calmly, holding out my hand.


    The gray cat¡¯s eyes darted around, but there was no escape. He tossed the pouch at my feet, the pebbles spilling out. I tied it back to my belt.


    ¡°Take it! It¡¯s just rocks anyway!¡± the gray cat spat.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t mean any harm, sir. Please don¡¯t call the guards,¡± the young tabby pleaded, his voice trembling.


    ¡°Shut up, fool,¡± the older cat hissed.


    ¡°I can go to the guards... or you can repay me for the trouble,¡± I offered my voice low and even.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have any money! Why do you think we¡¯re stealing?¡± the gray cat snapped.


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll work for me,¡± I said simply.


    ¡°Work? We don¡¯t know how to do anything!¡± the orange tabby shook his head, bewildered.


    ¡°Can you say, ¡®Do you want fries with that?¡¯¡± I asked.


    They exchanged confused glances.


    ¡°Do you want fries with that?¡± they repeated in unison.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± I grinned beneath my hood.


    I felt sorry for them. They were just kids. Kids shouldn¡¯t be out here stealing. If they wanted money, they should be working part-time jobs, like, oh, I don¡¯t know, flipping burgers?

 Chapter 49

    Chapter 49


    Sophie


    Day 44, Day 4 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    Oh, this place? Yeah, definitely my kind of scene. So decadent, so luxurious¡ªI must have it... eventually.


    Warm, fragrant candlelight flickered as we strolled into the lobby of The Silk Lotus. Violet velvet carpeting covered the ebony hardwood floors, like walking on a cloud. Censers filled the air with a scent of sandalwood, cleaning our lungs out from the stench of the rabble outside. James, got distracted, gawking at a statue of some nude rabbit girl, a rather ridiculous-looking marble piece, as if someone had placed a cute bunny head atop a furry Venus de Milo. I couldn¡¯t help but smirk. The room¡¯s centerpiece was an enormous ebony staircase with silver rails, leading down into dimly lit, shadowy corridors.


    We were greeted by a madame who held court at the entrance like a ma?tre d''. She had a round pink snout, beady little eyes, floppy ears, and a plump body bundled in a purple corset. Honestly, she looked like a more elegant Ms. Piggy, and I was thankful for my mask hiding my amused expression underneath. Her gaze lingered on us, clearly curious. I figured our clothes, James in his suit and me in my sleek leather jacket and pants, made us stand out. Road-worn, sure, but I made sure we were polished enough to make an impression.


    ¡°Welcome, welcomeeee,¡± she purred, her voice smooth but drawing out the ends of her words in a way that bordered on theatrical. ¡°Your first time here, I presume, at our establishmenttttt?¡±


    ¡°Greetings,¡± James, now playing the part of a boar, said in his overly regal tone as he kissed her hand. The Madame blushed, pink cheeks turning red with surprise.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re quite forward, aren¡¯t you?¡± she replied, nodding slightly. ¡°I am Madame Trufflenose, your guide through our illustrious pleasure gardens. Shall I call forth the flower garden for your delight, or perhaps you come on the recommendation of a mutual acquaintance?


    ¡°My name is Clark, and this is my wife, Lois. We¡¯re here on business,¡± James said, flashing a coy smile. ¡°I¡¯d like a word with the owner.¡±


    ¡°Owners,¡± she corrected, eyes narrowing. ¡°I¡¯m one of three sisters who oversee this esteemed establishmentttttt. The Silk Lotus is not for sale. Our family has nurtured these gardens for nearly a century.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not here to buy your business,¡± I said lightly.


    Not yet anyway. Not until the timing¡¯s right.


    ¡°Then whateverrrr do you want?¡± she asked, tilting her head, curiosity piqued.


    James translated my words. ¡°We are sellers of fine goods from our village. Surely, madam, an establishment of your prestige requires medicine and tinctures. To keep things¡­ clean.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, cleanliness. Quite troublesome,¡± she sighed. ¡°Fortunately, we have an herbalist who supplies us with the finest potions to remedy such concerns.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°Must be expensive potions.¡±


    ¡°Five Seconds a vial, and they¡¯re not guaranteed to work, either.¡± The Madame looked mournful, ¡°but we must maintain a reputation of pristine flowers.¡±


    ¡°Five Seconds?¡± I gasped, feigning shock. ¡°Well, I happen to have something far more effective¡ªfor a mere two Seconds.¡±


    Trufflenose laughed, dainty hands covering her mouth. ¡°Oh, please. Do you think I haven¡¯t heard every charlatan peddle dung and fish liver oil as some miracle cure?¡±


    ¡°Our product works,¡± James cut in smoothly. ¡°It might not solve all your problems, but most. And we won¡¯t even take payment until it does.¡±


    ¡°How can you make such a bold promiseeee?¡± she asked, her tone teasing yet intrigued.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we sit somewhere more comfortable to discuss it?¡± I sighed, pulling out my teapot like it was just another day at the office. ¡°I¡¯m parched.¡±


    The private lounge she whisked us into was elegant¡ªwomen sipping tea and nibbling on tiny cakes. It was obvious this place catered to high society, even the wives of clients indulging in gossip and treats while their husbands explored the ¡°garden.¡± I¡¯d give them this: The Silk Lotus wasn¡¯t your run-of-the-mill back-alley joint. No, this was a legitimate business, probably with government approval. It appeared they had a rather liberal attitude toward the whole affair of the world¡¯s oldest profession.


    We sat at an ornate granite table and sank into plush black leather chairs. Trufflenose gestured to a servant mouse girl, who brought over a copper kettle of hot water.


    From my brief impression of her¡ªher jewels, the way she treated her servants, and her constant need to compare herself to her sisters¡ªMadame Trufflenose embodied extravagance. Her eyes glimmered with a hunger for the finer things: tea, luxury, and any treasure she could collect. She wasn¡¯t one to hear ''no'' without pouting. I would need to meet her sisters as well to ignite a rivalry that could only be satisfied with the purchase of luxury Thornhill teaware.


    ¡°Are you sure your husband doesn¡¯t want to¡­ entertain himself while we talk?¡± Trufflenose asked with a sly smile.


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    ¡°Alas, my wife is a foreigner. She needs my translating skills,¡± James said with a straight face.


    ¡°A foreigner? That explains the mask. Lumindawn is still a month awayyyyy,¡± Trufflenose remarked, eyeing me curiously. Before the servant could pour tea into the teapot filled with yellow flowers, I stopped her, pulling out our teapot.


    ¡°My wife can only drink a specific tea. It¡¯s our custom to offer it to strangers first,¡± James explained with a grin.


    ¡°Oh, my!¡± Trufflenose clapped her hands, excited. ¡°Foreign tea! What a delight. With the Queen¡¯s tariff on Hidden Kingdom¡¯s teas, it¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve had anything but local blends.¡±


    James poured hot water into our teapot after I dropped in a mix of Anika¡¯s herbs and firecracker berries. As the tea steeped, Trufflenose leaned in.


    ¡°Where did you say you were from again?¡±


    ¡°The isle of New York,¡± James said dryly. ¡°We¡¯ve a taste for the finer things there. You wouldn¡¯t believe the wonders and luxuries we''ve got.¡±


    Trufflenose¡¯s beady eyes lit up as she blew on her tea. ¡°And where did you find such an exquisite teapot?¡±


    James stroked the teapot, clearly fond of it. It was one of Bianca¡¯s, B-grade. Trufflenose admired its smooth, round body, the flowers painted on one side, and the spiral handle. It gleamed with a beautiful glaze, and her signature ¡°B¡± was etched under the lid. I had to admit, even though it wasn¡¯t the highest quality, this teapot has a certain warmth to it. It radiated an air of luxury thanks to the special effect imbued by Bianca''s high-level Pottery skill; the effect was almost like a designer handbag in the hands of a young socialite.


    ¡°It¡¯s a genuine Bianca,¡± I said, pride leaking into my voice.


    ¡°You simply must tell me where I can find one!¡± Trufflenose sipped the tea, clearly enjoying herself as James refilled her cup.


    James sighed dramatically. ¡°Unfortunately, they¡¯re only available in New York. However¡­ a merchant wearing a boar mask sometimes sells them abroad. If you spot him, just say the word ¡®GACH-A-PON¡¯¡±.


    Everything was falling into place.


    Trufflenose sighed, clearly annoyed. The type who wasn¡¯t used to hearing ¡°no.¡± She straightened up, smoothing over the disappointment. ¡°Well then, shall we get to the business at hand? Three of my girls are out of commission. I¡¯ll be needing three potions. Unfortunately, our herbalist¡¯s hands are tied¡ªthe mercenaries and the Duke¡¯s men always have priority.¡±


    James leaned forward, all business. ¡°You¡¯ll need to describe the symptoms. Our remedies aren¡¯t one-size-fits-all.¡±


    Trufflenose pursed her lips. ¡°The first one has sores on her... bud. Red, swollen. We think it¡¯s the nether pox. We¡¯re granted her some time off.¡±


    James and I exchanged a look. Syphilis. Easily treated. Ethan, Thornhill¡¯s doctor, had run us through all the major STIs that a place like this could be rabid with.


    ¡°The second? Warts. Itching. We thought they were bed bugs, but a regular came back complaining he had the same thing.¡±


    Genital warts. Viral. Not something we could cure.


    ¡°The last one... well, there¡¯s a discharge. Yellowish. We¡¯re thinking it¡¯s the Running Sickness.¡±


    Gonorrhea. Another one we could handle.


    I dug into my bag, pulling out two bundles wrapped in leaves, each filled with tiny pills. Handing them over, James explained, ¡°These will take care of the sores and the Running Sickness. The warts? No cure for that in our kit, unfortunately.¡±


    Trufflenose narrowed her eyes, swirling her tea. ¡°Do forgive my skepticismmmmm. I have been burned before by those so-called remedies.¡±


    James smiled easily. ¡°Tell you what¡ªtake these for free. Have your girls use them twice a day. If they work, great. If not, no charge.¡±


    That got her attention. ¡°How intriguing. Most elixir peddlers insist on payment upfront. You truly possess such confidence?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not after a quick sale,¡± I chimed in with James helping in translation. ¡°We¡¯re looking for a long-term partnership. Your employees and clients shouldn¡¯t have to pay such exorbitant herbalist fees to treat the consequences of indulgence.¡±


    Trufflenose paused, contemplating with a graceful nod. "Very well, very well. I see no harm in this venture. But mark my words: if it fails, you shan''t see a single coin from me."


    ¡°Shall we get that in writing?¡± I smiled under my mask, already reaching for my papers.


    I stepped out and returned with a contract and a magical quill. The contract was straightforward¡ªno need for legalese. I hate those endless agreements no one reads, and I sure as hell didn¡¯t want authority involved.


    <hr>


    Treatment Agreement


    Client: The Silk Lotus


    Product Provided: Two Portions of the Healing Elixir (commonly known as Penicillin)


    Agreed Price: Two Second Mints for each Portion of the Healing Elixir


    Agreement Terms: Should the afflictions known as the Nether Pox and the Running Sickness be cured, or show visible signs of improvement, after the daily consumption of the elixir for seven days, the House of the Silk Lotus shall duly compensate with Two Second Mints per ailment treated.


    Witnesses:


    James Taylor


    Trufflenose


    Signatures:


    __________________________________


    __________________________________


    <hr>


    The Madame read through it slowly, sipping her tea while James refilled her cup. After a few passes, she signed with the magical quill, and I followed suit. With a little flourish, I tucked the quill and contract into my palms.


    ¡°Lovely. Let¡¯s hope this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership,¡± James grinned.


    ¡°Mmhmm¡­¡± Trufflenose said, eyeing him thoughtfully. ¡°Oh, this is quite delightful... where did you get this tea? It¡¯s simply divineee.¡±


    I didn¡¯t miss the glint in her eye¡ªshe wanted more. And bad. The kind of hunger that makes people do rash things. Her craving for the tea was much more intense than what the mouse farmers felt. ¡°


    We¡¯ve only got two bags left,¡± I said, leaning back. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I can bear to part with them.¡±


    ¡°There must be a way to get moreeeee,¡± she pressed.


    ¡°I heard a rumor that a company is being set up shortly to import such fine goods¡­ something East India Company or other, I think¡­¡± I mused.


    She leaned in, desperate. ¡°What if... I buy one bag from you? I must have some. My sisters will find this tea blend absolutely divineeeeeee. Name your price.¡±


    Ah, the magic words. I let them hang in the air before casually replying, ¡°I suppose... I could let it go for a First.¡±


    Trufflenose¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Not a First, darling. Let¡¯s be reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± I relented, pretending to mull it over. ¡°Nine Seconds.¡±


    She squirmed, clearly pained by the offer, glancing at James like she expected more tea. When none came, she finally gave in, fishing out nine Second mints and placing them on the tray. I took the coins and passed her the tea.


    She immediately unscrewed the lid and inhaled deeply, her nose twitching. ¡°Ah¡­ my sisters will be sooooo jealous.¡±


    We lounged over tea and cakes a bit longer. Trufflenose introduced me to some of her ¡°good friends¡±¡ªall decked out in fine jewelry and swathed in silks. It¡¯s not just about what you know; it¡¯s who you know that really counts when it comes to raking in the cash.


    Finishing the last of her tea, Trufflenose stood up elegantly. ¡°I¡¯ve got some urgent business to handle. You¡¯ve been quite the fascinating company. If your husband takes a liking to any of our flowers, I¡¯d be delighted to send one as a little gift to tie up our business. I have a feeling we¡¯ll run into each other again soon,¡± she said with a playful wink, before gliding away with her jar of tea and our medicine in tow.


    As she left, I couldn¡¯t help but smile. We had her hooked, and The Silk Lotus was just the first plot in the garden we planned to grow. The waiting room here? A goldmine of connections¡ªhigh society wives, gossip, and the latest craze in fancy pottery trends. The perfect place to network and build connections for the next stage of my plan.

 Chapter 50

    Chapter 50


    Orion


    Day 44, Day 4 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    The younger one, Nax, spoke first, his orange fur streaked with white stripes gleaming in the light. "I¡¯m Nax, and that¡¯s my older brother, Fleetpaw.¡± The gray cat stood in the shadows, arms crossed, barely acknowledging the introduction.


    After catching the two fleeing from an attempted swipe at my decoy coin purse, I dragged them back to my food stall. The lunch rush had passed, and the men from the docks and mines returned to their posts. Now, the food market trickled with a dozen onlookers. Nax and Fleetpaw stood in front of my empty booth, watching me closely, their expressions a mix of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what I¡¯d do next.


    "I''m Clark," I said, the lie slipping easily from my mouth. "You''re going to help me run this food stall. We don¡¯t have much time before the dinner rush, so we need to move fast. Work well, and I¡¯ll give you this."


    I held up a Second Mint coin. Their eyes lit up, hands reaching out instinctively as if drawn by the gleam of the metal.


    Without wasting a moment, I led them to a latch just behind the wood booth, revealing stone steps descending into the food cellar. As I opened it, cool, musty air rushed past, bringing scents of onions, dusty flour, sweet honey, and pungent fish sauce. Lidded baskets and glass jars filled with oil, salt, and dark vinegar lined the shelves, while simple clay plates and trays were stacked neatly in one corner. A basic bedroll lay rolled out in the center, clearly Slink¡¯s, the previous rat vendor, old sleeping spot.


    The two cats helped carry everything up and laid it out in the stall. I surveyed the supplies quickly, then ate a piece of old boar jerky to gain a three-hour buff, chewing slowly as I gave them their orders.


    ¡°You,¡± I nodded at Nax. ¡°Head to the vegetable stalls and have them send over all the tomatoes and potatoes they¡¯ve got. Lot 14-B.¡± Without hesitation, he darted off.


    ¡°And you,¡± I said to Fleetpaw, glancing his way. ¡°Pickled cucumbers and lettuce. One jar and a few heads should do.¡± I handed him a few Thirds.


    ¡°Bring me my change,¡± I warned, my voice flat but pointed. ¡°If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll come find you.¡±


    The gray cat''s fur bristled, and his tail stiffened, but he went. I had seen that look before, a silent rebellion held back by necessity. He''d do as told¡ªfor now.


    With them gone, I got to work. The copper wok came out, the fire flickered to life under my control, and soon the aroma of boiling water filled the air. Anika¡¯s tea blend simmered quietly. Honey followed, stirring the concoction into something that tasted sharp, sweet, and slightly bitter, reminiscent of the ginseng iced tea I used to buy in tall green cans for 99 cents back home.


    Firecracker Berry Infused Sweet Tea ¡ª D


    Increases alertness and energy for 2 hours


    It wasn¡¯t exactly what I wanted, but it would have to do. I stored the pitcher in the cellar, letting the tea cool, then turned my attention to the onions. The soft ones were tossed aside in a garbage bin as I sliced the firm ones paper-thin. The steady rhythm of the knife was meditative, the repetition grounding me at the moment, my Cook class making simple work of the onions.


    By the time the onions were sliced, Nax returned with a rat vendor carrying crates of green tomatoes.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be four Thirds,¡± the rat said, his beady eyes staring through my boar¡¯s mask with suspicion.


    Nax leaned close and whispered, ¡°Lord Clark, it¡¯s too much for those sour fruits. Two Thirds only.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you three,¡± I replied. The produce vendor smiled, more than happy to take the offer. I could¡¯ve pushed harder, but haggling wasn¡¯t my style.


    With the onions set aside, I crushed the tomatoes into the wok and simmered them down into a thick gravy, balancing the tartness with honey and salt, before setting the jar of the makeshift sauce in the cellar to cool. It wasn¡¯t quite ketchup in appearance, more reminiscent of green salsa, but it would pass for now.


    Soon, the potato delivery arrived, more than I had asked for, but I paid the runner five Thirds, anyway. Nax had managed to work him down from seven, though I wasn¡¯t sure if it was out of skill or the seller¡¯s desperation to get rid of the product.


    I showed the eager cat how to slice the potatoes into long, thin sticks and set him to rinse them in a bowl of water. Nax beamed as he sliced the potatoes, humming softly to himself, his tail flicking to the rhythm. His enthusiasm for doing such a mundane task tugged a faint smile to my lips. It reminded me of Cass¡ªjust enough to make me pause for a moment longer than I intended.


    I tried not to think about the trouble Cass was probably getting into back at home while I started prepping another sauce.


    The previous vendor, Slink, left behind a massive pot filled with murky water used for boiling meatballs. I heaved it over, the cloudy water splashing out into a sewer grate as I replaced it with a fresh helping of oil, its golden sheen catching the light. I lit the charcoal beneath the pot, watching the slow flicker of heat rise. Now I just needed something to act as a wire basket.


    Gray cat¡ªFleetpaw¡ªhad returned, hauling a bundle of lettuce and a jar of pickled cucumbers. The pickles floated in a yellow brine, thumb-sized, mingling with garlic cloves and unknown herbs. I reached out, hand open, for the change.


    ¡°Sorry, sir. Was all I could get with a mere 5 Thirds,¡± Fleetpaw said, shaking his head. He shot a sharp sideways glance at his brother, Nax, before casually inspecting his claws.


    When I slid my dagger from its sheath, the older cat¡¯s confident posture crumbled. His fur bristled as his paws trembled. Reluctantly, he fished three Thirds from his pocket and handed them over. I glanced at the coins and nodded before splitting one between the two


    ¡°What¡¯s this for, Lord Clark?¡± Nax asked, eyes wide as he marveled at the gleaming coin in his paw.


    ¡°A reward for getting me a good price,¡± I said warmly before returning to work.


    With the lettuce shredded, I moved on to the sauce. Nax and Fleetpaw, now fueled by the promise of payment, tackled chopping potatoes with enthusiasm. It was hard to believe¡ªwas a Third really that much? It felt like pocket change to me, but to them, it might as well have been a week¡¯s wages.


    The sauce was a simple matter. I cracked open several eggs, separating the yolks into a bowl before whisking in some pickle juice. Slowly, I poured oil into the mixture, whisking furiously until the liquid transformed into a rich cream-color emulsion. I tasted it¡ªdecent, but it needed something. A dash of salt. Another splash of pickle juice. Finally, the balance was right.


    I finely chopped some pickles and mixed them into the sauce, then reached for my earlier green ketchup concoction. After a quick taste, I adjusted the seasoning¡ªmore honey, more salt. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it would work well as my generic burger sauce.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    An hour and a half had passed according to the buff. The potatoes were chopped, rinsed, ready for frying. I checked my supplies¡ªalmost everything was prepped, but I still needed a few more items before the dinner rush.


    ¡°Orange, come with me,¡± I said, emptying my bag of unnecessary items onto the workbench. ¡°I need to buy a few more things.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Nax, you nitwit! I¡¯m Fleetpaw,¡± the gray cat snapped, crossing his arms and glaring.


    ¡°You stay here, Gray. Guard the stand, and If you do it well, you¡¯ll get a bigger share of the profits later,¡± I replied, leaving the fuming cat behind.


    Nax scampered alongside me as we walked. ¡°What are we getting, Lord Clark?¡± he purred, pausing to lick his paw and swipe it across his face.


    ¡°I need cheese and a wire basket. Where can we find tools and cheese around here?¡± I asked, scanning the market stalls.


    ¡°Lord Clark, you can get trinkets at Maxby¡¯s General Store. This way,¡± Nax gestured, leading me to a shop just two doors down from the bakery where I¡¯d ordered the hamburger buns.


    Maxby¡¯s was a small wooden building with a wide porch and creaking swinging doors. Inside, shelves were packed with an eclectic assortment of tools, lanterns, nails, sacks of charcoal, and even clothing¡ªleather boots, wool socks, straw hats hanging from hooks. The clutter felt strangely comforting.


    Behind the counter, Maxby, a moleman with jet-black fur and a peach-colored nose, was busy with a green frog customer. His beady eyes squinted behind round copper-framed glasses perched on his twitching nose. Seeing the frog caused a momentary knot to tighten in my gut, and my hand instinctively reached for my dagger. I clenched the hilt briefly, reminding myself it wasn¡¯t the same ones who attacked my village.


    I took a breath and turned my attention back to the shelves, grabbing a metal sieve, a sign, yellow paint, a stack of clay cups, and a flat iron trowel. My eyes landed on a small hourglass¡ªperfect for timing in the kitchen. I also couldn¡¯t resist a deck of cards, an impulse buy, before heading to the counter.


    There was a wall full of masks for Lumindawn and I picked out a Cat one to fit in with my employees. I had been filled in on Sophie¡¯s plans and it involved my boar¡¯s mask so I would need to change it.


    Maxby was free now, the frog customer tipping his hat as he left.


    ¡°Have you found all that you seek, sir?¡± Maxby¡¯s voice rasped as he peered at me.


    ¡°Do you have any cheese?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I have within my humble cellar two exquisite cheeses that may please thy palate: a Red Wild Rose and a Whisper Farm Blue.¡± Maxby said, a twinkle in his eyes as he adjusted his spectacles.


    ¡°I need something that melts easily, but nothing too pungent,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Ah, the Red Wild Rose should do nicely,¡± he said, disappearing into the back for a moment.


    When he returned, he handed me a small paring knife to sample the cheese, an orange log brick wrapped in red wax. It was sharp and tangy, reminiscent of an aged cheddar. The taste was too strong, maybe overpowering. Not exactly what I wanted, but close enough.


    Maxby totaled up my purchases using bone tally sticks. ¡°That¡¯ll be three Seconds and four Thirds,¡± he announced.


    I looked at Nax, but he shrugged, clearly unaware of the prices. With no reason to haggle, I paid, leaving me with:


    22 Second Mints


    61 Third Mints


    As I stepped out of the door, I glanced back at Nax and told him to watch over the stall. I moved quickly, seeking the cover of a narrow alley to don the new cat mask, tucking the old boar mask deep into my bag. When I returned, Nax and Fleetpaw looked up, their surprise barely noticeable, but there was no mistaking the flicker of approval in their eyes at my new cat mask.


    Not long after, the rabbit from the bakery next door arrived, a crate of bread in her arms. The first fifty of my burger buns had arrived. Without a word, I handed her a Third mint as a tip for the goods. She accepted it with a solemn nod, her ears twitching only slightly before she turned back to the bakery.


    Now was the most important part of fast food service. The logistics and assembly line.


    Fleetpaw oversaw the fries. I fried them first in low heat, using the Firewielder skill to keep the charcoal-fueled flames steady, low, beneath the pot. After frying all the fries once in low heat, we would prepare the second higher-heat fry to order. With a thought, I intensified the flame; the fire responding to my Firewielder skill, licking hungrily at the iron pot filled with bubbling oil. It would take three turns off the hourglass. I told Fleetpaw this. When the time was up, he was to salt the fries heavily.


    Nax, the younger of the two, would handle orders, pour the tea, and assemble each meal with precision.


    We had our system in place, but before the crowd arrived, there was one last thing to do. A family meal for ourselves, a small test run. It was not simply for hunger, but to ensure everything was in its right place.


    To track the orders, I used the playing cards I bought from Maxby¡¯s shop. Familiar yet altered, the deck had five suits instead of four. No hearts, no diamonds. Just ranks and letters: D, C, B, A, S. The Jester stood where Jack once did, and there were no Aces, only ones.


    Nax would give me two cards: one for quantity, and one for the meal type. A 3 and a King. Three number one meals.


    I placed six balls of ground venison on the griddle, the iron hissing, as they made contact. With the trowel in hand, I pressed them down hard, flattening each into a thin cracker-like patty. The meat seared instantly; the aroma rising¡ªrich, smoky, and strong. I layered thin slices of onion on top and flipped them over. The onions hit the fat and caramelized, their sweetness blending with the scent of charred meat. The onion flavor and aroma steamed into the meat while they both cooked. Behind me, Fleetpaw and Nax watched, their eyes wide and mouths watering, waiting.


    ¡°Don¡¯t watch. Get on with your jobs,¡± I snapped. They snapped into action.


    Nax filled three cups of sweet tea, setting them on the counter as Fleetpaw lowered the fries into the oil and then turned his hourglass once. The bubbling sound joined the hiss of the griddle. Our work, precise and calculated, moved like clockwork. A few onlookers gathered, drawn by the smells.


    I threw the buns onto the griddle for a quick toast, then laid slices of cheese over each patty. The steam rising from the hot iron melted the cheese into a gooey, molten layer. One by one, I assembled the meals. Sauce, lettuce, patty, pickles, another patty, and more sauce. Each is stacked neatly, with a crown of toasted bread on top.


    Smashburger Royale - B


    Burger Imperialism


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 14.65px; margin: 0">You receive that status effect that makes the food you cook more appetizing than those around you. People around you are more hungry and will pay more for your food.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 14.65px; margin: 0">Improves the morale of those around you</li>


    </ul>


    Cook - 9


    With that B-level dish, I finally hit level nine in my Cook class. Just one more level till I meet the Dealer and get a new skill.


    Fleetpaw pulled the fries from the oil, salted them as instructed, and set them down. The three of us sat at the counter, our meal laid out: the burger, fries, tea.


    Finally, I bit into the burger. The crisp, cracker-thin smash patty crackled with each bite, mingling with the tangy bite of sauce, fresh lettuce, and the gooey melt of cheese. Behind my lifted cat mask, tears welled in my eyes as memories surged through me like a forgotten river. My dad, taking me to a diner after a hockey game to celebrate. Cass and I sneaking out to get burgers instead of enduring Mom¡¯s leftover lasagna. Birthday parties, after-school hangouts, barbecues, social events¡ªeach moment wrapped in the comfort of a burger, a taste of home between two buns.


    I looked up. Fleetpaw and Nax were lost in quiet awe, their first taste of something sacred. It wasn¡¯t just food to them now. It was a revelation. I made two new missionaries of the gospel of the burger and together we would spread the word.


    It was no accident that hamburgers conquered the Earth, reaching every corner of the world. Even the bland, microwaved frozen patties served by high schoolers couldn''t dim their magic. And while this might not be perfection, it was as close as I could get.


    The dinner rush would start soon. A line had already formed, curious faces waiting to taste what had lured them in. I stood, grabbed a large plank, and painted two golden arches before placing it against the front of the stall.


    ¡°Welcome to McOrion¡¯s,¡± I said, my voice steady. ¡°How may I take your order?¡±

 Chapter 51

    Chapter 51


    Orion


    Day 44, Day 4 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    Our first customers gave our crew a few bumps along the way. Nax, our earnest catshier, initially struggled to handle the ticketing system. The two rats at the front of the line were particular. They insisted on a burger without lettuce or cheese, and Nax came to me to explain the order instead of using our card ticketing system.


    With only three items on the menu, we kept it simple: fries drizzled with green ketchup, sweet firecracker berry tea, and our signature smashburger. We only offered three burger options: the Big Mac, the Quarter Pounder, and the Hamburger, served without lettuce or cheese.


    The first order came in with a Jester-card and a 2-card on my bench, signaling two hamburger combos. I slapped two patties on the black iron flat top and smashed them down with my trowel, the meat browning against the hot griddle.


    ¡°Fries!¡± I called out, alerting Fleetpaw to start a fresh batch. The gray cat sprang into action, carelessly tossing as many par-fried fries as he could manage into the bubbling oil.


    ¡°Don¡¯t crowd the pot, Fleetpaw!¡± I cautioned, noticing the pot of oil was already overwhelmed.


    Once the buns were lightly toasted, I smeared burger sauce and ketchup on the bottom halves, adding two slices of pickled cucumber before crowning them with patties and another bun, completing the simple hamburger. I carefully placed the finished burgers onto a waiting wooden tray. Fleetpaw appeared, balancing two plates of fries as Nax poured tea into clay mugs, adding a dollop of green ketchup on the side.


    The rat couple left two Thirds on the counter, nodding in approval as they departed. Next up was a group of four mole miners, their soot-streaked clothes telling tales of their day¡¯s work in the mines. Nax set down a 4-card and a King-card, signifying four Big Mac combos. I wasted no time slapping eight ground meatballs onto the flat top.


    ¡°Nax, remember to say ¡®Have a nice day!¡¯,¡± I called out, placing ribbons of shredded onions on the uncooked sides before flipping them.


    ¡°Yes, Lord Clark!¡± Nax replied, already handling the next order with a determination that impressed me.


    I took a cue from Fleetpaw, preparing extra patties in anticipation of the onslaught of orders to come. As I glanced around, I realized we might need one more set of hands to keep things moving smoothly. Fast food has to be just that¡ªfast.


    As I completed the miners'' order, they left behind two Thirds each for their Big Mac combos, grabbing their wooden trays with their food and settling onto nearby stools.


    Curious onlookers soon gathered, drawn by the sight of our satisfied customers relishing the foreign flavors with glee, like vultures circling carrion.


    Yet, as our orders piled up, there was discontent from my neighboring vendors. They grumbled about our customers hogging the stools.


    The dinner rush was in full swing. As the sun dipped lower, the food market teemed with miners, sailors, and townsfolk eager for a bite. Every stool and eating space on the road would be fought for, and my customers were taking most of it.


    I caught sight of our dwindling supply and I ordered loudly, ¡°Double the price of each item, now!¡±


    Dynamic pricing¡ªgotta love it.


    A collective groan swept through the crowd upon hearing my announcement, with some patrons retreating in search of other stalls. Despite their grumbles, I knew we were on the verge of running out of food before we could serve everyone.


    Only ten burger buns remained, and we were running out of par-cooked fries. We were already out of sweet tea, leaving us to offer only regular water to our customers.


    As we reached the final burger, I shut down the lines, allowing only one customer to proceed. The crowd surged, their restlessness threatening to engulf our stall. Nax, visibly shaken, apologized. But a hush fell over the crowd when I brandished my chef¡¯s knife, its gleam silencing the growing chaos.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be open again tomorrow. Thank you for your business,¡± I stated coldly, watching as they reluctantly dispersed.


    Maybe not the best approach by customer service standards, but I had them hooked.


    I turned my attention to the last order¡ªa simple hamburger with fries. Our last customer had been standing in line patiently as I smashed the burger onto the griddle. Once assembled, I stepped forward to deliver the meal. To my surprise, it was the rat vendor who had sold me this place.


    ¡°Let him have it for free, Nax,¡± I instructed my cashier, who promptly returned the coins to the customer. I approached him with a nod.


    ¡°Wow¡­ you¡¯ve done quite well for yourself,¡± the rat remarked, weariness evident in his voice. He took the meal and bit into the burger, his eyes lighting up before a wave of sadness washed over him. ¡°I can see why.¡±


    ¡°Find yourself new work¡­ uh¡­¡± I trailed off, struggling to recall his name.


    ¡°Slink¡­ yeah. Mines always need hands,¡± he sighed. ¡°Least I don¡¯t have to worry about debt collectors there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a job if you want it,¡± I offered, watching as the old rat chewed slowly, contemplating his decision.


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡± He finished his burger, nodded in thanks, and left.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    After cleaning up, I counted the total amount of coins we¡¯d collected. We had 4 Second coins and 67 Third coins¡ªnot bad for a day¡¯s work. I hadn¡¯t recouped my entire investment in one day, but it was a promising start. More importantly, I was leveling up.


    I withdrew ten Thirds, the equivalent of a Second, and handed Nax and Fleetpaw each five coins.


    ¡°We can have this, Lord Clark? Really?¡± Nax exclaimed as if I had bestowed upon him a fortune.


    It was a pittance, considering I was keeping the other 90 percent of today¡¯s revenue.


    ¡°Of course. You both did great today. In fact¡­¡± I fished out two more Thirds and handed them each one, ¡°Here¡¯s a little extra for being such outstanding workers.¡±


    Once again, it was merely chump change, but it lit up their faces with delight and gratitude.


    ¡°Ask him, Nax,¡± I overheard Fleetpaw whisper to his younger brother.


    ¡°Lord Clark, we know we aren¡¯t much, but would you mind if we worked for you again tomorrow?¡± Nax asked, his eyes wide with hopeful pleading.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± I made a show of considering my options. ¡°Be here tomorrow, two hours before midday. Otherwise, I¡¯ll find someone else.¡±


    Nax¡¯s eyes sparkled. ¡°Of course, Lord Clark!¡± he replied, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.


    Before they left, Fleetpaw shot me an almost apologetic glance, as if trying to atone for previously trying to steal my purse. I closed up shop, withdrawing all my coins from the lockbox, before storing the lockbox in the cellar, and locking that too. Night had come to Kronfeldt, and lamplighters began illuminating the streets.


    My suspicions nagged at me, urging me to follow Fleetpaw and Nax. I didn¡¯t know who they truly were; they had been thieves¡ªor wannabe thieves¡ªbefore crossing paths with me. I had to meet Sophie and James at our rendezvous point at sundown, but first, I needed to ensure my safety. Activating my Tracking skill, I followed the two cats as they headed toward the docks.


    The boardwalks stretched over the water, lined with tiny wooden shacks nestled between the docked boats. From one shack emerged an overweight orange cat, shirtless and scolding the two brothers who approached his doorway.


    Hiding in the shadows, I noticed the bruises decorating the older cat¡¯s body and face. He walked with a limp, and some of his fingers were missing. His resemblance to both brothers was unmistakable¡ªhe had Fleetpaw¡¯s tough demeanor and Nax¡¯s bright orange fur. So, this must be their father. The father cat held out his hand, and the two brothers dutifully handed over five Thirds each. A moment of shame flickered across the father¡¯s face as he accepted their money, quickly replaced by anger as he barked that it simply wasn¡¯t enough.


    The boys shrank beneath their father¡¯s ire, their apologies tumbling over each other as they braced for the worst. Inside their disheveled shack, it looked like a mini tornado had passed through. Tables were overturned, bedcovers slashed, and pots shattered. Yet, the boys settled quietly in their cramped space while their father wandered off to the local tavern to spend the coins he had taken from them.


    I sighed as I walked away. They weren¡¯t thieves, just kids caught in a brutal cycle. I wanted to help, but I knew better than to get tangled up in someone else¡¯s family mess.


    I can¡¯t solve every single problem in this town. Bigger problems were waiting for me back home. I had to focus.


    <hr>


    Arriving back at the alley behind the jewelers, I found only Sophie rifling through her portable wagon.


    ¡°Where¡¯s James?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Looking for an inn,¡± Sophie sighed. ¡°I guessed right, didn¡¯t I? You didn¡¯t get us a room?¡±


    Oh right, I had forgotten about that.


    ¡°Did you guys sell a lot of products?¡± I inquired.


    ¡°It takes some time, but the seeds have been planted.¡± Sophie emerged from the wagon, her nose twitching as she sniffed my clothes. ¡°You smell like barbecue. Busy day, I presume?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Give me the boar mask,¡± she instructed. She removed her mask, and I reached into my satchel, handing her the boar¡¯s mask. I wasn¡¯t sure what she had planned, but she had swapped her leather jacket for a flight attendant outfit borrowed from Aaliyah for this trip.


    Suddenly, a voice cut through the air. ¡°I¡¯ve found us accommodations. Not entirely ideal, given how late we¡¯ve arrived, but we have two rooms.¡±


    James joined us, disguised as a rat person.


    ¡°You should have secured a room earlier, Orion~¡± Sophie teased, sidling up to me and linking her arm through mine. ¡°What exactly were you doing all day?¡±


    I tried to slip free from her grasp, but Sophie held on tight.


    ¡°Oh my, you¡¯re quite red under that mask, aren¡¯t you? Is this outfit making you all hot and bothered? Should we do some roleplay later, Captain?¡± Sophie whispered in my ear, stifling a chuckle.


    I knew how Sophie enjoyed provoking a reaction from me, and despite my best efforts to ignore her, I was still a young, warm-blooded male. The more I tried to suppress my discomfort, the more pleasure she derived from watching me squirm. It was frustrating, knowing she viewed me as just a useful tool for her ambitions, likely moving on to charm some lord or banker once our village developed beyond its hunter-gatherer roots and I wasn¡¯t seen as useful in her eyes.


    We followed James to the inn, who looked increasingly annoyed.


    As we walked through the lamplit streets, I remained alert. A tingle ran down my spine, a sensation that someone, maybe several people, was tailing us as we made our way to the inn.


    Through the now-quiet food stalls and past the hardware store, a figure dashed toward us. I instinctively tightened my grip on my knife, only to find it was a young man wearing a wool beret, his long black-furred ears flopping out from beneath it. He scrutinized our faces before locking eyes with Sophie in her boar¡¯s mask.


    ¡°You¡¯re the fella the missus was looking for, ain¡¯t ya?¡± the hare panted, breathless.


    Just then, another runner emerged from an alley¡ªa lanky stout sprinting toward our group.


    Sophie stepped forward, exaggerating her posture as she bowed dramatically.


    ¡°Do you have the word?¡± she asked, her voice dropping to imitate the gravitas of a male movie announcer.


    ¡°Gachapon!¡± the hare exclaimed, excitement bubbling in his tone.


    In a clear spot on the road between two shops, Sophie set down her portable wagon and tossed the card labeled ¡°Expand¡± onto it.


    Suddenly, runners began closing in from all directions¡ªat least three of them, all hired by different patrons. It seemed Sophie had been quite busy.


    As the wagon expanded, curious onlookers still wandering the streets gathered around to witness the display of magic. I hesitated, uncertain about Sophie revealing her abilities right here, but it was too late to intervene.


    ¡°Come one, come all! Step right up to the Mystery Wagon!¡± Sophie called out, her voice ringing with enthusiasm as the crowd gathered for the night¡¯s event.

 Chapter 52

    Chapter 52


    Sophie


    Day 44, Day 4 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    At the night markets, lanterns illuminated the main street, revealing a lively carnival that lit up Kronfeldt every night. Shows featuring animal puppets were being prepared, mummers applied their chalky makeup and wigs, and sitarists and lutenists tuned their instruments. Jugglers practiced with lit torches, their flames dancing in the night.


    Elsewhere, hawkers peddled spiced nuts, and crowds gathered to watch a wrestling match between a boar and a badger¡ªboar and a badger¡ªboth covered in coarse, dark furs, built like weightlifters but clad only in loincloths¡ªcircled each other within a square made of sticks tied by a tight red rope. Bets were eagerly placed by onlookers, their excitement buzzing in the air. Fortune-tellers had set up tables for tarot readings, while a red-skinned frog fire-breather exhaled a massive plume of flames into the night sky, drawing gasps and applause from the crowd.


    It was time to start the party.


    I joined in by disappearing into my Magical Wagon and returning with several prizes. My two assistants, Orion and James, had rehearsed the routine before arriving in town, and as I was bringing out the prizes, they placed them on display shelves along the wagon¡¯s side. The shelves had basic carved figurines on the bottom, followed by primitive clay mugs and fancier teacups, plate sets, and teapots. At the very top shelf sat our most coveted prize, the Original Bianca C-tier Teapots. We¡¯d made wooden plaques for each prize, marking them with letters: for example, the carved figurines were labeled as F, while the Original Bianca Teapots were marked as S.


    I had hustled those women earlier at the bordello. Now, my efforts were paying off as their runners and porters dashed throughout the town to find the boar-masked seller of the exclusive Bianca Teapots.


    There was just one problem though. Like certain luxury handbags, customers wouldn¡¯t be able to get the prized teapots without forking out a lot of money first¡ªmoney they¡¯d be rolling on loaded dice we prepared for them.


    The last item I brought out for the event was a tombola. Orion and Molvin, our village¡¯s carpenter, crafted it using their high-level crafting skills and ingenuity. Inside, small ivory balls were etched with letters and painted red, using a precise mix of flower pigments and copper, waiting for their moment to drop out of the funnel at the bottom of the drum.


    The runners arrived on schedule, practically shoving each other to get in line first. Each was sent by various members of high society I had networked earlier at the bordello. And like a moth to a flame, whenever people see a line, they want to join it.


    ¡°The rules are simple,¡± I announced to the gathering crowd. My confidence in my Lokan grew as I leveled up to 2 in my Polyglot skill with the day¡¯s social calls. ¡°Only two draws each night. Three Thirds for the first roll. One Second for the second roll. Five Second for the Third roll!¡±


    Gambling¡ªa force of nature that ensnared anyone drawn to the thrill of chance.


    Most would only roll once, especially those who were simply passing by to see what the fuss was about, but I knew the runners would roll three times. I could pressure them for infinite rolls, but it was better to keep them coming back.


    The tombola was rigged, of course. The low-tier stones were smaller and more numerous, while the S-tier balls, fewer, barely fit through the funnel. We¡¯d tested it again and again, calculating the odds. Getting an S-tier ball was about 1 in 500; an A-tier was 1 in 100.


    Up first was the original hare who had spotted me. He fumbled with his coin pouch, saying, ¡°I¡¯ll give you two Seconds for a teapot. The missus will have my tail if I don¡¯t come back with one.¡±


    Now where¡¯s the fun in selling it outright? I can get a lot more money with this little game system.


    ¡°NO DRAW FOR YOU! Back of the line!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± The hare¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°That¡¯s outrageous!¡±


    But the other runners were more than happy to solve my problem for me, shoving the indignant hare to the back of the line. One less person in their way to getting their employer that much-needed pot.


    Next was the stout, who tipped his cap respectfully before placing three Thirds on the counter, which James scooped up. I spun the tombola¡¯s crank, and after a few turns, out popped a round stone with a large red F on the face.


    ¡°F,¡± I announced, showing the stout and the crowd the ball¡¯s rank.


    He looked dejected. ¡°I get more tries, don¡¯t I? One more try, please, milord.¡±


    Orion handed him a tiny wooden horse figurine, carved by the village children as a hobby. The children kept the best figurines for themselves, leaving a pile of discards for us to use as junk prizes. The stout eagerly handed me a Second for his next roll. Another spin, another ball.


    ¡°F!¡± I said again, and Orion passed him a small dog figurine, carved like a Monopoly piece.


    ¡°Dealer¡¯s balls! This cursed game is naught but trickery! I demand a refund!¡±


    ¡°OUT! NO DRAW FOR YOU! You¡¯re banned from tomorrow¡¯s game!¡± I declared.


    ¡°B-but! The lady will have me tail if I don¡¯t return with a teapot!¡±


    Orion stepped forward, dagger drawn, staring him down. The stout cowered and scurried away.


    We served nineteen people. In total, we handed out twenty-five figurines, seven clay mugs, three plates, and two teacup sets. When the hare finally got his second chance, he rolled a figurine on his first try to, on his second, pulled an A-tier ball. Orion handed him a D-grade teapot, and the hare triumphantly held it up.


    Other runners, jealous, immediately offered the hare money for the prize, but he refused.


    ¡°Oh, praise be to the Dealer! I¡¯ll get a nice tip for this one, I will!¡± he exclaimed, running off to his client in the upper part of town.


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    A few hesitant stragglers remained, unsure whether to try their luck, but I decided it was time to wrap things up. The runners from the wealthier clients had gotten their gacha rolls.


    In total, we earned 15 Seconds and 45 Thirds. Not bad for a few hours¡¯ work. Adding that to the 54 Seconds from selling tea at the bordello, today¡¯s revenue came to 75 Seconds and 45 Thirds. After deducting the boarding fee I paid James for our rooms at the inn.


    ¡°The Gachapon event is over for now!¡± I announced.


    The three of us packed up the show, stowing everything back in the wagon. I changed out of my flight attendant uniform into my usual leather jacket and jeans, and put away my boar mask for a rabbit one.


    The village trade funds were tallied so far, excluding personal earnings from selling Orion¡¯s gems:


    8 First Mints


    94 Second Mints


    75 Third Mints


    Total Value: 1815 Third Mints (Fair Market Value)


    My Barter skill had reached level 4, and my Merchant level had climbed to level 6.


    Oh goodie, do I love watching numbers go up.


    It was time to wind down and get some rest at the inn. Our party made its way through the entertainment district, with James guiding us. The inn, with weathered gray bricks and a thatched roof, had a sign bearing an antler symbol. James read the sign for us, able to decipher the Latin script and it read: Buck¡¯s Bounty Inn.


    Inside, the candleholders rested on the wooden casks that served as tables, surrounded by high stools. A large fireplace took center stage, flames dancing behind an iron grill. The light from the fire scattered in fragmented patterns across the room, broken by the crisscrossing metal, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Though a few regulars sat around, the inn was surprisingly empty for the time of day.


    An antlered deer sat at the bar, pouring drinks for his regulars, while a doe served a rowdy group of miners, their clothes caked in soot from the day''s work.


    We approached the buck at the counter, who gave us a nod, his eyes briefly scanning me and Orion¡¯s mask with mild curiosity. James stepped up to greet the buck, and the elk handed him two pairs of keys. We followed James upstairs to our rooms¡ªJames and Orion shared a family-sized room, while I had a small one all to myself.


    We were all exhausted from the day¡¯s journey, and my feet were killing me. I headed downstairs to the bathroom, paying a Third to the doe barmaid, who handed me a small bar of soap, a pot of hot water, and a rag to wash with.


    The bathroom was a cozy nook tucked away in the inn, its wooden walls darkened with age and steam. The air was thick with the warm scent of pine. A sturdy wooden tub, crafted from thick planks bound with iron bands, sat in the corner. I lit the single candle near the tub and poured the pot of boiling water into the tub, along with some more room temperature water to even it out. After undressing and extinguishing the lone candle with my fingers, I removed my mask and sank into the warm water. The only light came from a small window grate, letting in soft sounds from the entertainment district and the lit streets outside.


    It was amazing how much grime came off my body¡ªand honestly, it was pretty disgusting. I needed antiperspirant, shampoo, and body lotion, not to mention a whole host of other things like makeup and beauty products.


    One step at a time. I¡¯ll need to work hard so I can take a good hot bath every single day in a mansion.


    Afterward, I returned to check on Orion and James, who were already knocked out, back-to-back on their feather mattress. Leaving them in their room, I checked into mine. A small jail-sized room with a tiny window but it was still all mine.


    My bed felt like heaven. It was the first time I had my own private room and finally slept without smelling like a barn. I hugged my warm blankets tightly. A girl could get used to this.


    The next morning, I woke up and checked on Orion and James, but they were already gone. It felt like it was around 10 am, just a fuzzy instinct. I wandered the streets alone and eventually came across an empty storefront. A sign with a fox logo directed inquiries.


    Further down the street, Orion was busy setting up his stall, with two impossibly cute kittens helping him. A large yellow "M" was displayed at the front of his stall, and he was whisking egg yolks into mayonnaise. Meanwhile, from the bakery next door, a rabbit arrived, carrying a stack of freshly baked burger buns.


    ¡°My, my¡­¡± I murmured as I approached. Orion didn¡¯t look up from his work. ¡°Fast food and child labor? We¡¯ll make a capitalist out of you yet.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have drugs to push?¡± Orion quipped, setting aside his mayonnaise to prep some tomatoes.


    ¡°You know there are two problems with this business, right?¡± I popped a cherry tomato into my mouth.


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll tell me whether I ask or not.¡±


    "First, restaurants have notoriously low profit margins. Second, once people see your menu and what you''re serving, imitators will pop up, offering lower prices and more value. You''ll see McRatty¡¯s on every corner, and there''s no way to protect your brand."


    ¡°First, they don¡¯t have me and my class. Second,¡± Orion finally looked up, his eyes challenging, ¡°there¡¯s more to life than making money.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I tapped my fingers on my chin. ¡°You don¡¯t think money will bring happiness? Think of how much better life would be in Thornhill with imported silk mattresses.¡±


    Orion slapped a patty onto the griddle and handed me a finished burger. ¡°You probably didn¡¯t have breakfast. Try it.¡±


    I smiled and took the offering. While back on Earth I generally gravitated towards pho, sushi, and Korean barbecue, you can''t beat a good burger sometimes. And this burger was nearly perfect. The sugar-loaded bun, the salty cheese, the juicy, crispy meat, and the tangy sauce all blended just right. I chewed slowly, savoring each bite.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Orion asked, his smugness plain on his face, already knowing my answer.


    ¡°My my my. I never thought I¡¯d be so turned on by a fast food worker,¡± I teased, handing him two Thirds.


    No response. How annoying. He was getting better at handling me.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a Contract ability, right? Do me a favor¡ªbuy up all the potatoes and tomatoes. And see if you can get tomato seeds. I want to get Samar to plant them in Thornhill.¡±


    ¡°Will do. But do me a favor in return: try to pay in Thirds or Firsts when possible. Hold onto as many of your Seconds as you can,¡± I replied.


    He nodded, then asked, ¡°What are you doing today?¡±


    ¡°Setting up a bank,¡± I said.


    ¡°Mind giving me a lock of your hair?¡± Orion asked casually, without pausing his work as he stewed green tomatoes and added honey to the pot, carrying on his business as if he didn¡¯t ask something incredibly creepy and ridiculous.


    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t know you were into that,¡± I smirked, leaning over. He casually snipped a lock with his knife and pocketed it, not even breaking from his work.


    ¡°Enjoy your day,¡± he said, returning to his cooking.


    What an odd request.


    Bidding farewell to the food market, I headed toward the center of Kronfeldt and the Guild districts. It was a new day with lots to do¡ªbusinesses to buy and currencies to inflate.

 Chapter 53

    Chapter 53


    Bianca


    Day 45


    Population of Thornhill - 52


    I dreaded this day¡ªthe one where my life would devolve into a series of endless meetings. First, the town meeting, where I had to reassure everyone we were doing all we could to find Super, our escaped thief. Then the council meeting, plotting out the village¡¯s future and policies. After that, a town planning meeting was held with the builders and masons to discuss the town¡¯s expansion and projects. Now, here I was, at the security meeting, surrounded by dungeon regulars and Anika.


    ¡°Any sign of him?¡± I asked Cade. He shook his head, frustration tightening his jaw.


    We gathered in the half-finished mess hall, where Bruce, Marek, and their assistants tiled the floor while we figured out what to do about Super. In the mess hall, Molvin, our carpenter, was busy shaping new tables and chairs. To add to the improved decor, a massive red bear¡¯s head was mounted on the wall, courtesy of Alex and Sasha.


    Astrid, ever eager, piped up. ¡°I can take an elk out and track him.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t let you take that risk, Astrid,¡± I said. Her courage made me proud, but the thought of her alone in the woods, hunting a man with nothing to lose¡ªit terrified me. Besides, I wasn¡¯t sure how good her tracking skills or her knowledge of the land were. Also, we needed her here to take care of the animals.


    ¡°He¡¯s hiding in the forest somewhere,¡± Cade snapped. His voice cracked with exhaustion. His red-rimmed eyes betrayed how little sleep he¡¯d had. ¡°He¡¯s going to come back for more food. He can¡¯t last out there forever.¡±


    When Super left, he stole supplies, but several days had passed since, and he hadn¡¯t struck again. Alex suspected he had more than lockpicking skills¡ªlike stealth, maybe worse¡ªwhich kept us on edge. We''d all been sleeping with one eye open, wary of every creak in the walls.


    ¡°What do we do if we catch him?¡± Anika asked, her voice measured, though I knew she was feeling the same unease. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have magical locks to hold him.¡±


    ¡°Execute him,¡± Sasha said bluntly, drawing her thumb across her throat. ¡°I¡¯m sick of this. There¡¯s no other way.¡±


    ¡°What? That seems kinda harsh¡­ I¡­ no, I can¡¯t¡­¡± My voice faltered, the weight of her words pressing down on me.


    Is this who I am now? The kind of leader who signed off on executions?


    A thick silence followed, no one argued with Sasha, not openly. Maybe they agreed. Maybe they were just as exhausted by Super¡¯s whereabouts as she was.


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯ll run into that party heading to Kronfeldt." Anika suggested, trying to break the tension.


    ¡°Even if he does, he¡¯ll lie his way out of it,¡± Cade muttered. ¡°He¡¯s always been a smooth talker.¡±


    I hated this. The idea of punishment¡ªof having to make these decisions about people¡¯s lives¡ªfelt heavy. Super had already caused enough damage, but what were we supposed to do? How long do we lock him up? And what if he escapes again?


    ¡°There¡¯s not much we can do until he makes a move,¡± I said, frowning. ¡°Cade, Alex, you¡¯ll have to keep an eye out. If he tries anything dangerous¡­¡±


    They looked at me, waiting for the final word.


    ¡°Handle it,¡± I said softly, the weight of the words settling in my chest. ¡°If you can restrain him good. I think the best we can do is to throw him in a pit he can¡¯t climb out of.¡±


    With that, the meeting was over. No one had any better ideas. A manhunt through the forests would drain resources we didn¡¯t have. Super Nine would have to slip up first. Until then, all we could do was continue waiting.


    I climbed up to a familiar cliff and looked down over Thornhill. Slate was finishing the hostel, a stone rectangle building that needed something¡ªsomething to make it look less like a cubic stone prison. Maybe a deck, maybe even a pool.


    God, how awesome would it be if we could find a hot spring source?


    I pulled out the Hostel card, watching it shimmer as the card signaled the building was complete. That familiar tingling sensation inside me meant that my Founder class card had leveled up. I¡¯d hit level 10.


    Here we go again.


    The world flickered, and I found myself pulled back into the cosmic void. Stars glittered in the endless expanse, cold and distant. The void stretched out in every direction from the round card table that lay in the heart of the dimension. There, the Dealer sat, as always. Silent, waiting. My skill and class cards were neatly spread out on the table between us.


    ¡°H-hiya! Long time no see, Mr. Dealer,¡± I stammered, my voice too high, too shaky. I tried to control my fear, but it was hard. The emptiness of this place gnawed at me¡ªendless, terrifying. Nothing but the dark and those stars, twinkling like distant eyes watching me.


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    You aren¡¯t alone, Bianca, I reminded myself. You¡¯ll be back in Thornhill soon. Let¡¯s just get this over with.


    The Dealer gave no response to my nervous greeting. He never spoke beyond what was necessary, never engaged beyond the deal. Its pale, expressionless face stayed fixed on the cards. Elegantly, it withdrew a single blue card from a portal on its palm and placed it in front of me.


    I stared at the card, the tension in my chest tightening as I prepared to face whatever choice lay ahead.


    The Builder Sovereign Path


    Requirements:


    Founder Class ?


    Familiar: Golem?


    Builder 3/3?


    Crafting 3/3?


    Pottery 4/3?


    Lights illuminated my shoulders like a firework was exploding behind me, a whistling sound followed as a shooting star blazed across the void. My breath caught as I watched it arc overhead, leaving a glowing trail in its wake. As it vanished in the sky, a new constellation lit up where the comet disappeared. Its outline was unmistakable¡ªa golem. The massive form was sketched out in stars, like some celestial guardian watching over me from the heavens.


    But the Dealer didn¡¯t react. He never did. His attention remained fixed on the task at hand. Calmly, methodically, he slid a foiled package across the table toward me. No words, no expressions. Just the silent, inevitable motion.


    I reached for it, the weight of the decision sinking in. The stars overhead gleamed brighter, as if they, too, waited for my next move.


    The Building Sovereign Booster Pack


    I opened it carefully. Three cards hovered before me, and a slot opened on the table, awaiting my choice.


    Familiar: Lumberjack Golem - A


    A second golem. This one will specialize in processing wood.


    The card shows a golem mid-swing, its massive axe cutting through a tree with ease, dressed in a flannel shirt and sturdy overalls.


    Familiar: Farmer Golem - A


    A second golem. This one will specialize in farming.


    This card depicts a golem standing in a field, wearing a straw hat and working with a plowshare. Rows of crops stretch out behind it.


    Familiar: Quarry Golem - A


    A second golem. This one will specialize in cutting and placing stones.


    The golem on this card holds a hammer and chisel, poised over a block of stone. The background shows a quarry with towering rock walls.


    I¡¯d considered choosing the Farmer Golem¡ªJames was away in Kronfeldt, and Samar was overwhelmed with the farmwork. I¡¯d already had to shift some workers her way, but we were stretched thin. Still, the Quarry Golem felt like the right choice. We couldn¡¯t mine, couldn¡¯t dig, and our need for limestone and salt was growing daily.


    The last time I stood in the void world, I doubted myself. Now, though, there was no room for that. Thornhill had to grow, from a cluster of wooden huts into something permanent¡ªsomething lasting. I wanted to turn Thornhill from a village of wood shacks into a city of marble.


    Ummm¡­. Do we even have marble around here?


    I chose Quarry Golem and placed it next to Walking Sawmill. The Dealer¡¯s voice echoed as he bowed. ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder.¡±


    With a blink, the world reassembled itself, and I stood again on the cliffs overlooking the village. I summoned my new skill card¡ªFamiliar: Quarry Golem¡ªand tapped it. From the rock ledge below, the stone began to stir. Slowly, a hulking figure of basalt emerged, nearly fifteen feet tall. Its form was a crude mass of rough stone, shaped like a blocky refrigerator with a flat back. One arm ended in a long saw, the other a drill. Blue light pulsed from its head, seeping through the cracks in the stone to form two visored eyes.


    ¡°Hi, Mr. New Golem,¡± I muttered as it lumbered toward me, awaiting orders.


    The Familiar card revealed three skill cards for the Quarry Golem: Drill, Cut, and Haul. Playing around with the commands reminded me of when I first worked with Slate. Tossing a Drill card, the golem would bore into the rock precisely as I imagined. Cut would shape the stone into blocks, and Haul dragged the materials wherever I visualized.


    Simple, but effective.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to need a name,¡± I mused aloud. ¡°Crag. How does Crag sound?¡±


    Crag gave no indication it cared, far less responsive than Slate had ever been. I could get it to do tasks on its own, but it wasn¡¯t intuitive like Slate. If I wanted Crag to work, I had to be specific.


    I asked Anika where Crag¡¯s talents were most needed, and she suggested we use them to gather limestone and salt. Together, we scouted for deposits in the Eastern hills. By the end of the day, Crag had lugged several hefty blocks of limestone and one giant block of salt back to a stockpile just outside the village.


    After a long day of scouting limestone, the next morning brought a fresh challenge, I met with the town planning committee to discuss a new project¡ªa storm drain that would eventually lead to a full sewer system.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need cement pipes,¡± Marek said, scratching his balding head. ¡°We don¡¯t have the materials for metal or plastic.¡±


    ¡°We can make cement from the limestone Crag digs up,¡± Bruce, our mason, suggested.


    ¡°Slate can lift the cement pipes, and Crag can dig the trenches, providing limestone and sand,¡± I added.


    Marek frowned. ¡°If we¡¯re putting in a sewer system, we¡¯ll need to move some buildings around. Could take months, even with your magic rocks.¡±


    I knew Marek had a special ability that allowed him to flatten surfaces evenly which would help us reshape the way Thornhill looked.


    ¡°We have months,¡± I said, offering him a smile. ¡°And it¡¯ll be worth it. Now that people are settled, we have to think about the long-term layout of this place. Eventually, the old shelters will have to be repurposed or destroyed to become brick buildings.¡±


    That conversation sparked a series of long days and nights as we set to work creating a cement mixer¡ªmetal sheets from the blacksmiths formed the drum and frame. With Slate and Crag working side by side, trenches were dug, pipes laid, and the foundations of our storm drain took shape.


    Without the constant need to make pottery for trade, I could now focus on planning alongside the town¡¯s builders. We mapped out cesspits and a graywater filtration system using sand to clean the waste before dumping it into the ocean as safely as possible.


    I¡¯m sure the trade expedition is working hard. We had to make sure we weren¡¯t going to get left behind, either.


    Yet, as I threw myself into the work, the same nagging feeling gnawed at me¡ªa sinking dread in the pit of my stomach. I hated not knowing.


    Super Nine was still out there.


    And I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that we hadn¡¯t seen the last of him.

 Chapter 54

    Chapter 54


    James


    Day 45, Day 5 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    A pit of despair was welling up inside me. I saw Orion¡¯s burger stand, bustling with ravenous customers. Sophie already had the rich folk of this town eating out of her hands. Compared to them, I felt like nothing more than a glorified translator. I needed an idea, a get-rich-quick scheme. I needed money. I wanted to return to Thornhill in silks, with a cellar full of vintages, and maybe even make an unaccompanied visit to the bordello... though I should probably keep that last part to myself.


    My time in town had been productive, though. I was already level 6 in my Diplomat class and probably 90% fluent in Lokan.


    The docks were bustling with life. While miners loaded cargo holds, sailors were readying ships to transport ingots across the lake to trade caravans. But there wasn¡¯t much money to be made as a sailor or miner. I wandered to a nearby dockside tavern, a place catered to sailors and hardy miners. Most of the miners were rodent-men¡ªmoles and rats¡ªwhile the sailors were mostly otters and weasel-faced men, with the occasional frog in the mix. I ordered a pint at the bar.


    I paid a Third for a mug of their local ale and found it... unpleasant. Even though I¡¯d been craving a beer, this was swill. I''d always thought it was better to go without than to fill your body with garbage. Now, that burger Orion served me earlier was excellent. Just thinking about it made my mouth water, which I wiped away with another sip of the beer. I winced as it washed away the magical grease left over from my morning meal.


    ¡°Bit too strong for you, huh? Pufftail?¡± the bartender, a boar, asked with a wink.


    He called me "pufftail" because I was currently disguised as a rabbit. I couldn¡¯t change my fur to white like I wanted, so it matched my human hair¡ªbrown. Looking in a mirror, I resembled a rabbit caricature of myself, like something a roadside cartoonist would draw.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for work,¡± I said, trying to keep my tone casual. ¡°Anywhere a gent can make good coin, barkeep?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the question everyone wants to know, mate¡ªme included!¡± the boar laughed. ¡°What¡¯s your name, stranger? Don¡¯t reckon I¡¯ve seen you around before.¡±


    ¡°James,¡± I replied, a bit too proudly, if I¡¯m honest.


    ¡°Odd name. I¡¯m Rocksnout,¡± he replied, rubbing his curly chin hairs. ¡°I can¡¯t pay you much, but you could wash the floors for a Third.¡±


    A single Third?! To wash floors? Yeah, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll jump right on that


    ¡°Psst... I heard Hadrelian¡¯s recruiting some... less-than-reputable men,¡± the weasel-faced sailor beside me murmured. ¡°For some... less-than-reputable work, if you catch my drift. Some good coin in it for men with the stomach for it.¡±


    Normally, folks don¡¯t go spilling shady opportunities to strangers, but my Espionage skills and Diplomat class were working behind the scenes, loosening lips without me even needing to try.


    ¡°I¡¯d prefer something a bit more... above board,¡± I said, taking another sip of my swill.


    ¡°If you¡¯ve got some coin, you could flip slaves,¡± the bartender chimed in, polishing that same ancient glass. ¡°One of the merc companies caught a group of slavers heading north with their ¡®inventory.¡¯ They¡¯re holding the slavers¡¯ goods for auction over at the Mercenary Guild Halls.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Flip slaves?¡± I asked, my curiosity piqued. My stomach churned at the thought, but I kept my face steady.


    "Sell ''em to a slaver past the border," the boar said casually, still wiping the bar with that tattered rag. "Auriel pays a good sum for slaves, especially ones with classes."


    I blinked, trying to wrap my head around it. "Wait... let me get this straight. It¡¯s illegal to enslave people, but not illegal to sell slaves?"


    "Aye, that¡¯s right." He gave a toothy grin. "We beastkin have no fear of being arrested for owning or selling slaves. Only the Eldrins do."


    I could feel my brow furrow. "You¡¯re not from around here, are you? One of the off-islanders?" the boar asked, looking me over like I was a particularly odd specimen.


    "Yeah," I said hesitantly, weighing my words. "I¡¯m from a distant village on an island called... New York."


    The boar grunted, clearly having never heard of it, and probably didn¡¯t care. "But why are only the Eldrins arrested for enslaving people?"


    "Eldrins have the Masters¡ªthe classes that can tether people," he explained, the casual tone making it all the more unsettling. "Only they can do it, using void magic. Nasty stuff, that. Best stay clear of ''em unless you fancy waking up with a collar around your neck."


    I couldn¡¯t tell if that was a joke or a warning, but either way, I filed it under ¡®reasons not to get too comfortable here.¡¯


    ¡°Why don¡¯t they free the slaves?¡± I asked.


    ¡°They can¡¯t. Only a Master can free a slave. Once the collar¡¯s on, you¡¯re a slave for life. So it goes. Best pray you get a decent owner,¡± he muttered, then went off to serve another customer.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯ve got a plan for ya. If you know how to spin a tale,¡± the weasel beside me burped, ¡°you could make a pretty penny at Celebration Road, collecting tips.¡±


    Now that was an idea. I knew plenty of stories. Earth stories. I could plagiarize a whole library of authors. I¡¯d be this world¡¯s Homer¡ªthe poet, not the drunk dad, I thought as I grimaced through another sip of beer.


    I left a Third on the bar and headed for Celebration Road. Yesterday, I noticed the road was full of performers¡ªtwo-man shows, solo jugglers, duets of musicians. Sometimes, even a full band.


    Could I pull off a monologue? Wouldn¡¯t that be a bit... dull?


    Not to brag, but I¡¯d done my fair share of small theater productions, even some Shakespeare. The problem was, that I couldn¡¯t remember the monologues in their entirety. And let me tell you, translating Shakespeare into another language strips away a lot of the nuance¡ªthe puns, the wordplay. Still, the stories themselves are timeless.


    At this hour, there weren¡¯t many entertainers out yet. The streets were mostly filled with a few lucky kids, spared from working in the mines or other jobs. Some lute players were busking with dreamy notes, and a puppet show was captivating kittens and rat pups.


    What struck me was the puppet master himself¡ªhe looked human, but not quite. Long, pointed ears, eyes spaced too far apart, marble-like skin. His weary, timeless eyes and long gray beard suggested his age.


    I tried to hide my surprise as he pulled out a card. With a flick of the card, the stage lit up, and the puppets began moving on their own.


    It hit me¡ªI hadn¡¯t seen anyone besides the people from Thornhill using card abilities except for exchanging Contracts or Deeds. That vampire-elf hybrid who came to our beaches did, though. That memory stirred up shame and a touch of PTSD.


    But this puppet master looked far more human than that pirate. His eyes were kind, though weary. The children, however, seemed bored by the show¡ªa tale about a cat and a mouse.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the cheese, Mr. Whiskers?¡± Scrabby asked, his puppet strings jerking like he was shrugging.


    ¡°Under the bed, Scrabby,¡± the cat said.


    As Scrabby crawled under the bed, the cat quickly pulled out a piece of cheese, chomped it down, and just as Scrabby peeked back, it shoved it behind its back again.


    ¡°Not there, not there. Now, where did you hide the cheese, Mr. Whiskers?¡±


    ¡°In the closet, Scrabby!¡± the cat replied.


    Scrabby darted for the closet. As soon as he was out of sight, the cat took another bite, smugly slipping the cheese behind itself once more.


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    ¡°Strings, this is boring,¡± complained a kitten near the front, her tiny paws crossed in a pout. ¡°You¡¯ve told us this story already.¡±


    A few of the others began to murmur, nodding in agreement. ¡°Yeah, tell us something new, Strings!¡± a rat pup chimed in, tail flicking impatiently as he fidgeted in his seat.


    The puppet master sighed softly, stepping out from behind the stage. His eyes drifted over the expectant faces of the children, who now looked more restless than entertained. ¡°Children¡­ how about Mr. Whiskers and Scrabby go to the beach?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s boring! We¡¯ve heard this one before!¡± the kitten huffed, rolling her eyes like the whole affair was beneath her.


    ¡°Tell us about a hero!¡± someone else shouted from the crowd.


    ¡°Mr. Whiskers and Scrabby go to war!¡± suggested a rowdy rat pup, punching the air as if already locked in some epic battle.


    Strings'' lips twitched into a weak smile. ¡°War, huh? What if they worked on a farm instead?¡± he offered hopefully.


    The reaction was instant¡ªcollective groans echoed through the group. ¡°We don¡¯t want a story about farmers! We want stories about kings and princesses!¡±


    ¡°Yeah! Tell us about Queen Seraphina and her adventures in the dungeon!¡± another child chimed in, eyes alight with excitement.


    ¡°Or an adventure story!¡± a voice from the back added with urgency.


    ¡°Tell us about the battle between Aurelian and Seraphina!¡± a boy shouted, practically vibrating with anticipation.


    Strings threw his hands up in surrender. ¡°Kids... please... I don¡¯t know any stories like that,¡± he admitted, his tone tinged with exhaustion. Keeping up with this lot was like trying to herd cats¡ªno pun intended.


    Just then, a kitten near the back sprang to her feet, her tail flicking with excitement. ¡°Oy! I heard Limmy¡¯s holding a frog-catching competition down by the pier!¡±


    That caught their attention. The children jumped up all at once, abandoning the puppet show in an instant.


    Last one there¡¯s a rotten frog egg!¡± the rat pup yelled, bolting for the door as the rest of the kids followed in a chaotic stampede.


    Strings stood there, blinking as the last of the children vanished, leaving the square eerily empty. The lively chaos drained away, and in its place was the unsettling quiet of a space once filled with laughter. He looked down at his puppets, shoulders slumping slightly, while the echo of their little feet faded into the distance. His collection bowl? Still depressingly empty.


    ¡°Tough crowd,¡± I remarked, stepping closer with a half-smile, trying to break the awkward silence. ¡°Name¡¯s James, by the way. I¡¯m a bit of an admirer.¡±


    Strings glanced over at me, offering a tired smile in return. ¡°Sometimes I wonder why the Dealer gave me this class,¡± he muttered, his voice low with defeat. ¡°I¡¯m Strings... thanks for saying so.¡±


    I watched as he folded up his stage, each wooden panel collapsing like some sort of pop-up book returning to its original form. It was mesmerizing in a way¡ªhow something so intricate could be packed away in a matter of moments.


    After a brief pause, I broke the silence again. ¡°Have you been a storyteller your whole life?¡±


    Strings paused, looking over his shoulder as if weighing how much to share. ¡°I just... enjoy making puppets,¡± he said softly, returning to his task. ¡°Puppets are empty shells. They can be whatever you want them to be.¡±


    I nodded and stepped forward to help, grabbing one end of the stage as Strings hefted it into a small, rickety wagon that groaned under the weight. The thing looked like it might collapse any second, but it held¡ªfor now.


    ¡°You mind if I... help you tell some stories?¡± I offered, trying to sound casual but hopeful. ¡°I¡¯m from a place that''s full of great tales¡ªones that are popular with kids and grown-ups alike.¡±


    Strings gave me a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge whether I was serious or just humoring him. He sighed, the kind of deep, weary sigh that comes from someone who¡¯s used to disappointment. "I can¡¯t pay you much,¡± he admitted, shaking his head. ¡°I barely make a living as it is."


    I shrugged. ¡°Wasn¡¯t looking for money. Just think it might be fun¡ªmaybe even help you pull in a bigger crowd.¡±


    With a resigned nod, Strings led me through the quieter, more run-down part of town. The cobblestone streets grew rougher, and the smell of sewage hung thick in the air, making my stomach churn. We passed a tannery, the acrid stench of chemicals blending with the scent of blood from the butcher¡¯s shop next door.


    When we finally arrived at a narrow building sandwiched between the tannery and the butcher¡¯s shop, Strings pushed open the door. The inside was dim and cramped, with shelves lining every wall, all filled with puppets in various stages of completion. Their lifeless eyes seemed to follow us as we walked in.


    I hesitated for a moment, half expecting one puppet to move on its own. Strings, however, seemed unfazed. He moved around with a familiar routine, opening a small window near a stove to let in some light. ¡°Make yourself at home,¡± he said, glancing at me. ¡°Care for some water? I don¡¯t have much else to offer.¡±


    I glanced around, still feeling like I had just stepped into a scene from a horror movie, but the light streaming in helped ease the tension. I smiled and nodded. ¡°Water¡¯s fine.¡±


    As Strings began putting his puppets away, I helped where I could, finding empty spaces on the shelves.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, thanks. About payment... How about a revenue split? I can help tell your stories, and we split the earnings fifty-fifty. Does that sound fair?¡± I asked, scanning the room to see what puppets we had to work with. There were all kinds: humans, queens, knights, and various animals.


    Strings didn¡¯t seem to consider the offer. He pulled out a block of wood and began chiseling it with an obsessive look in his eyes.


    "Fifty-fifty, huh? That doesn¡¯t sound quite fair to me¡ªI¡¯m the one making all the puppets and props,¡± he said, still focused on the wood.


    ¡°I can assure you, the stories are captivating. Where I¡¯m from, they sell out seats and books like nobody¡¯s business.¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re that good, why do you need me?¡± Strings asked, casting a suspicious glance my way.


    ¡°There has to be a visual element. With your puppets and my stories, we¡¯ll be quite the duo, don¡¯t you think?¡± I said.


    Strings put down his chisel and sighed. ¡°Spose I don¡¯t have much choice. Man¡¯s gotta eat. I¡¯m down to my last few Thirds, and if I don¡¯t make something tonight, I¡¯ll be out on the streets.¡±


    ¡°Perfect. I¡¯ll provide the voices and story, and you move the puppets. We¡¯ll make it a show worth remembering,¡± I said, looking over his collection.


    I picked out a pair of lion puppets from the shelf. ¡°Do you have a cliff background anywhere?¡±


    ¡°I could make one,¡± he said, grabbing a thin piece of wood from his supplies.


    A card appeared in his hands, and with a swift motion, he shaped the board into a rough cliffside. It looked decent, but I stepped in to help carve a sharper, jagged peak. It needed that iconic look. Another card appeared, and as if by magic, color washed over the background.


    ¡°What level are you, Strings?¡± I asked, impressed by his abilities.


    ¡°That¡¯s a rather rude question.¡± he let out a small smile, filling in some trees with a brush.


    ¡°My apologies. I... I¡¯m a foreigner, unaccustomed to this land.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, but around the more powerful Holders, I¡¯d watch your tongue. I¡¯m level five if you care to know.¡±


    ¡°That low?¡± I blurted, regret flooding in instantly.


    Strings chuckled softly to himself. ¡°I didn¡¯t get my class until late in life. The levels don¡¯t come as easily when you¡¯re older. You¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve met who¡¯s unimpressed by someone having a class at all. Many people work for years without ever getting one.¡±


    ¡°Oh... sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m half Chattel,¡± Strings said. Chattel, is the term for humans in this world. ¡°Even with that, it¡¯s still not guaranteed.¡±


    From his gallery, I selected some hyenas and a boar. I couldn¡¯t find a meerkat, so I swapped it for a weasel.


    ¡°Does this look good, James?¡± Strings asked, showing me the finished landscape. I nodded, pleased.


    For the next few hours, we rehearsed. Strings¡¯ deep, coarse voice brought the villains to life, while I voiced the main characters. My female voice could use a bit of work¡ªit was a tad exaggerated for my taste, but oh well.


    By midday, we took a break. Strings pulled out a loaf of stale bread, offering me some, but I declined, feeling sorry for taking the old man¡¯s meager sustenance.


    Maybe Orion would be willing to give me another burger.


    Before I left for the food market, Strings asked, ''Do you have a name for this play?¡±


    ¡°The Lion King,¡± I said, leaving him to eat his meal.


    At the food market, Orion¡¯s food stall was crowded to the brim. Scuffles had erupted throughout the crowd, fueled by growing impatience. The look in some of their eyes was almost zombie-like as they waited for their food.


    I figured I¡¯d try a nice curry for a change. What is the point of traveling if you are just going to eat food from home? The seats at the food stall were mysteriously absent, and the vendor, with a straight face, blamed it on customers nicking them for McOrion¡¯s stand down the road.


    So, I ended up hunched over at the bar like some sad crow, shoveling down a thick orange gravy with questionable meat and a dark green squash, served in a crusty bread bowl. Cost me a Third, too¡ªa good enough price for a meal you¡¯d probably regret later.


    After that, I wandered the city. It was, after all, part of my job to get a handle on the politics of this strange world we¡¯d landed in¡ªboth locally and further afield.


    I took a left through the heart of the city and found myself in the guild district. Standing in front of one of the Mercenary Guilds was an older bloke, kitted out in leather armor, with a short sword hanging from his hip like an afterthought. His face was that of a cat, scars lined his face, the look of a man who¡¯s seen it all and couldn¡¯t be bothered anymore.


    Under a clay tile roof in the yard outside the guild hall, bars enclosed a small picnic area with stone tables and stone stools where three people sat, a mix of boredom and lethargy on their faces.


    They wore silver collars around their necks that didn¡¯t fully close. Instead, a blue light bridged the gap between two metal spheres, forming an open space near the throat, like the arc of a lightning bolt suspended between two conductors. More concerning was that they weren¡¯t beastkin at all¡ªthey were humans. Or, as they were called in the wider world... Chattel.

 Chapter 55

    Chapter 55


    Sophie


    Day 45, Day 5 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    The Builder¡¯s Guild is home to many offices. Representatives from masons, carpenters, and teamsters form various groups that bid for contracts. Together, they make up a collective guild, paying dues for the building but still competing fiercely for jobs.


    I sat in the office of a Red Fox Construction Company representative. Besides offering contracts, Red Fox Construction managed deeds for unsold, repossessed, or newly constructed buildings in town and the surrounding area. We discussed a lease agreement for an empty lot that Red Fox had repossessed after the previous tenant defaulted on the loan of their construction agreement. And of course, tea would be served during our negotiations¡ªmy favorite Thornhill blend, naturally.


    After all, you can¡¯t strike a deal without some refreshment, right?


    ¡°Twenty Seconds for the month,¡± the red fox representative said, his tone calm.


    I had managed to negotiate him down from 30 Seconds to 20. I wasn¡¯t paying in Seconds. I wanted to use Firsts to take advantage of my Currency Exchange skill. Plus, I had plans to hoard my Seconds. The fox sipped his tea and studied me with a speculative look.


    I handed over the two Firsts, and he passed me a deed card, which I slipped into my palm with practiced ease.


    Lot Deed - 1 Month Lease


    20 x 20


    5 - A


    Celebration Street


    Interesting. Bianca hasn¡¯t unlocked this Deed feature in Thornhill yet.


    ¡°I¡¯m curious¡­ how much is it to buy the lot?¡± I asked.


    If there¡¯s one thing I can''t stand, it¡¯s renting.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a price you can afford, I¡¯m afraid,¡± he replied.


    Sigh. Why do they always underestimate me?


    ¡°Try me,¡± I said, smiling behind my rabbit mask.


    ¡°100 Firsts.¡±


    Maybe I can¡¯t afford it yet, but soon.


    With the lot lease purchase, the town treasury now held:


    8 First Mints


    92 Second Mints


    75 Third Mints


    Total Value: 1795 Third Mints (Fair Market Value)


    After another round of Gachapon tonight and more tea sales, we¡¯ll be a bit closer to reaching our goals here.


    ¡°Let¡¯s make a bet,¡± I suggested. ¡°If I can get you 100 Firsts by the end of the day, you¡¯ll sell me the lot for 90 Firsts, minus my lease fee for the month.¡±


    ¡°So you want it for 88 Firsts? Is that what you¡¯re saying?¡± The fox sipped his tea, studying me with a speculative look. ¡°What¡¯s stopping you from having the 100 Firsts already and just trying for an easy discount?¡±


    I reached beneath the desk, pulling out my contract card to draft a proposal. The fox raised an eyebrow, read the contract, then smiled slyly.


    ¡°So, if you don¡¯t earn 100 Firsts by the end of the day, you¡¯ll pay me 5 Firsts?¡± He scratched his chin, considering. ¡°Fine. I need to get that property off the books, anyway.¡±


    ¡°We have a deal,¡± I said, watching him sign it with my magical quill before handing it over for me to do the same.


    ¡°I must say, this is fine tea,¡± he remarked. ¡°May I ask where you acquired it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, a little trading establishment called the East India Trading Company. They import the finest products from around the world.¡±


    ¡°Really? I¡¯ll have to send a runner to ask around about that,¡± the fox mused.


    "Pleasure doing business with you," I said, rising and offering a handshake. But in Kronfeldt, handshakes weren¡¯t the usual way to close deals, and he simply stared blankly at my gloved hand.


    With a nod, I sent him off to inspect my newly acquired lot. A blue line marked the perimeter of the abandoned space, a few boxes scattered about, but otherwise, it was empty.


    At the docks, I found three sailors standing around, looking for work. I paid each of them a Third to clean the lot until it gleamed. After that, I spent 3 First Mints on furniture, flowers, and a lockbox to spruce up the lot. At the general store, I picked up a jar of honey, a scale, and a white fox mask.


    The final touch was a sign-out front, which I had a local woodcarver etched and paint: White Fox Exchange and Loans.


    Next, I dispatched a runner to several contacts I had made at the Bordello, requesting a meeting over tea. The prominent society women couldn¡¯t resist; at the moment, the only ones with tea bags were one madame at the bordello and me.


    My first client was a plump rabbit lady with graying fur and weathered eyes. Age was hard to gauge age among the beastkin, but it was clear she was an older woman.


    What surprised me wasn¡¯t her, but her assistant¡ªa human. The first one I¡¯d seen in town. An old butler type, with gray hair and a long gray mustache, wearing a metal collar around his neck. I had a mini freakout inside, but I remained calm on the outside.


    What on earth was a human doing here, in a town full of furries?


    Control yourself, Sophie. Close the deal. Focus on the deal.


    ¡°Oh¡­ is that you, Lois?¡± the plump rabbit lady, Hazelpelt, said, recognizing me behind my white fox mask. ¡°You have a new mask, I see.¡±


    Lois was the pseudonym I used to keep my true identity hidden. I had worn a rabbit mask before¡ªprobably more familiar to Hazelpelt. I¡¯d spent a lot of time socializing with her and her husband at the Bordello, who had a voracious appetite for the place, the food, and the sweets. They owned a horse farm that bred horses for the Duke and the noble folk of the duchy.


    ¡°Yes¡­ I find this suits me better. Now, Hazel, I¡¯m here to discuss an investment opportunity.¡±


    ¡°Please, Lois¡­ I¡¯ve been through these scams so many times. My husband and I didn¡¯t get rich by throwing money away on whatever schemes come our way,¡± she said, eyeing me with suspicion. ¡°But if you want to talk tea sets and tea, I might be willing to pay a finder¡¯s fee for that.¡±


    At the mention of tea, one of my ¡°assistants,¡± a female otter sailor wearing a white fox mask, came over with one of my C-tier teapots and some boiling water. Hazelpelt stared in a sort of hypnotic daze as I poured the tea into her cup, which I then pushed toward her.


    Her fingers shook as she nodded in thanks and took a sip.


    Anika¡¯s work always amazed me. The tea was infused with dried firecracker berries and other herbs to boost its effects. The farmers were already grafting new bushes to ensure we could meet future demands.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Mmm¡­ that¡¯s quite lovely. Quite lovely indeed,¡± Hazelpelt sighed, her shoulder visibly relaxing. ¡°Soothes the joints.¡±


    ¡°Hazel, the securities I¡¯m offering are guaranteed. By Void Contract. All it takes is an investment of 100 Firsts, and you¡¯ll receive 10 Firsts by the end of the month. A ten percent return, with ZERO risk.¡±


    ¡°Darling¡­ you know what they say about something that sounds too good to be true¡­¡± Hazel sipped contentedly, though a flicker of curiosity sparked in her eyes, silently beckoning me to continue.


    I pulled out the pre-made contract, ready for her doubts.


    <hr>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">Bond Agreement


    Title: Bond of the White Fox Exchange and Loans


    Price of Bond: 1005 Seconds (5 Second Transaction Fee)


    Return on Bond: 10 Firsts, to be paid within 30 Business Days of the bond¡¯s maturity


    Repayment of Principal: 100 Firsts


    Guarantor: White Fox Exchange and Loans


    Holder: _____________


    Collateral: 100 units of Firecracker Berry Tea, held as security for the bond


    Terms of Agreement:


    <ol style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">Issuance: The bond shall be issued upon receipt of the full payment of 1005 Seconds.


    </li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">Maturity: The bond shall mature 30 Business Days from the date of issuance. At maturity, the Holder will receive a return of 10 Firsts.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">Repayment: Upon maturity, the bondholder will be repaid the principal amount of 100 Firsts (equivalent to 1000 Seconds) along with the return of 10 Firsts.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">Collateral Assurance:</li>


    </ol>


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">The collateral of 100 units of Firecracker Berry Tea shall be held as security against the bond.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">If the White Fox Exchange and Loans fails to fulfill the repayment of the bond as agreed, the collateral shall be transferred to the Holder as compensation.</li>


    </ul>


    Signatures:


    _______________________________________


    _______________________________________


    The White Fox


    White Fox Exchange and Loans


    [Name of Holder]


    Bondholder


    Date of Agreement: [Fira(May) 4, 911 IE]


    Date of Maturity: [Voss(June) 4, 911 IE]


    <hr>


    My client read the contract, her eyes lighting up at the collateral. ¡°100 units of this marvelous tea?¡±


    I nodded toward my assistant, who brought out a large sack of tea leaves scattered with dried firecracker berries from my portable wagon. The otter opened it, letting the rich aroma waft toward the rabbit. Her eyes gleamed like she¡¯d stumbled upon a pile of gold.


    ¡°You want it paid in Seconds? Why Seconds?¡± Hazel asked, sounding suspicious.


    ¡°It¡¯s just easier for a bank to lend out money in Seconds and Thirds,¡± I answered, sounding casual as if it were no big deal.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ how many could I buy? This sounds too good to pass up, especially with a Void contract guaranteeing it.¡± Hazel said, nodding. ¡°Cyric, pay this woman 2010 Seconds.¡±


    ¡°Apologies, Master. We find ourselves lacking in Seconds at the moment. Shall I venture to the Banking Guild to procure some on your behalf?¡± The human butler bowed his head subserviently.


    Master? Between the collar and the title, either this was some kinky sex fetish, or we were in for a whole lot of trouble.


    I instinctively pulled my leather gloves tighter and adjusted my face mask, feeling exposed.


    ¡°Yes, and stop by the bakery while you¡¯re at it, darling. Pick me up some of those honeybuns I like so much. They¡¯d go great with this tea,¡± the rabbit said.


    Cyric nodded and rode off, leaving me with my client. We spent the next half hour discussing the latest town gossip and events, but my curiosity was gnawing at me. I had to ask about the elephant in the room.


    ¡°How did you come to have a Chattel slave?¡± I asked, bluntly.


    Hazel took a sip of tea and smiled knowingly. ¡°Cyric? I purchased him at the Mercenary Guild some ten years ago. He¡¯s been with me ever since. If you¡¯re asking if he¡¯s for sale, the answer is no.¡±


    Just a casual conversation about slavery. Nothing too unusual, I suppose.


    ¡°As you can probably tell from my mask and accent, I come from out of town. How does one procure a slave around here?¡± I asked, feeling like I was about to get an answer I wasn¡¯t going to like.


    ¡°You have to wait until the Mercenaries capture slavers and masters. Slavers roam the frontiers, searching for farms and villages where freeborn Chattel roam. Ah, that reminds me¡ªI''ve heard word that the Guild Hall has a few Chattel for sale as we speak. But be warned, they¡¯re not a fine lot, if I¡¯m to be truthful.¡±


    ¡°So I take it¡­ the rulers here don¡¯t either encourage or discourage slavery?¡± I asked, guessing that they had a queen given their currency.


    ¡°Seraphina? Ah, she cares naught for the Chattel. She¡¯s well aware that the Empire of Auriel sends its agents, disguised as mere raiders, to her lands to seize slaves for the North. But she''ll not raise a hand in protest. No, she''s content to hunt down these miscreants, reclaiming their ill-gotten spoils. Of course, Auriel will deny any involvement¡ªclaiming it''s but a band of rogue cutthroats chasing after gold," Hazel said with a quiet chuckle, sipping her tea with a look of satisfaction.


    I made a mental note to tell James and Orion about this. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t care much about global politics, but becoming a slave was definitely not on my list of to-dos.


    When Cyric returned with the honeybuns and the required Seconds, I sold Hazel two bonds in exchange for 2010 Seconds. She greedily took the Contract cards, and just like that, we were linked. In 30 days, I¡¯d need to hand over 10 Firsts and her initial investment. But by then, it would be chump change for me.


    I briefly entertained the idea of running a Ponzi scheme¡ªgetting more investors, paying off the first ones with new money. But I knew that wouldn¡¯t work in the long run. Eventually, people would catch on, and the only way to stay ahead was to provide real value.


    A strong Kronfeldt meant a thriving Thornhill, and that meant I could thrive, too. Sure, I could be a parasite if I wanted, and people probably already saw me that way, but I needed my commission to push this market forward.


    In my previous world, the rich were already well-established. You¡¯d have to have extreme luck¡ªbe born into a wealthy family like the Waltons or get in early on some killer tech like Apple or Google¡ªto make billions. Despite that, I¡¯d still made plenty of money, after a nose job, some ambition, and a decent following¡ªbut I¡¯d never reached the stratosphere my mentor had. When she showed me her bank account, I realized we were on completely different levels. I was thinking about owning sports cars. She was thinking about owning sports teams.


    Here, though? With my exploitative magic powers, I could be whoever I wanted. The next Rothschild, Carnegie, JP Morgan, or Warren Buffett. This world was my oyster.


    By the end of the day, I had sold 7 more bonds, bringing my capital to 9045 Seconds, not including the town¡¯s fund. I was on the hook for the same amount, though¡ªborrowed capital. The wealthy ladies who bought the bonds couldn¡¯t help but brag to their friends about the great deal they¡¯d just gotten, and word spread like wildfire. It was like an MLM, nothing empowered people more than bragging to their friends about making ¡°smart¡± investments, and nothing was more satisfying than seeing the ripple effects take hold. Only this time, the ¡°scam¡± would actually pay. I would get them their investment back while making a killer profit with the capital.


    The first person I approached with this newfound capital was the Fox realtor. His eyes nearly popped out when I bought out the shop for 880 Seconds. That was one problem solved. While I was there, I also bought two more properties from two different representatives to not raise too much suspicion. One would be my main storefront¡ªthe East India Trading Company, specializing in the sale and shipping of unique foreign luxuries, purchased for 900 Seconds. A couple of Thirds later, I hired three more free workers at the docks to clean it up and set it up.


    The second was a shipping company, Hanseatic Limited. This would be my secret company, conducting business only with the East India Trading Company to keep the links to Thornhill under wraps. The total cost was 1000 Seconds.


    When I returned to the bank, several people were waiting outside, all referred by previous clients. After a few more hours of bond sales, I had racked up 17 bonds and 14,305 Seconds in total.


    My plan was beginning to take shape. Runners from the Banking guilds were dispatched left and right, searching for places to exchange large sums of Seconds, and soon enough, I would be answering their calls. The rich and the lenders in this town were running out of Seconds, and I was about to reap the rewards of the exchange rate that I set.


    It almost felt unfair. No SEC and no Securities Act. Making money would be easy. In a world without securities regulations, all you¡¯d need to do is figure out which rules are enforced in a modern world and then break them here. That and have a magical Merchant class that can tip the scales.


    Taking a break, I locked up my stores and flipped the closed sign. My next stop was the Mercenary Guild, having received a tip that they were selling Chattel. The whole human slavery situation still weighed heavily on me, like a guillotine hovering above my head, waiting for the right moment to drop. I had to find out for myself.


    I reached the Guild district near the Mercenary Guild halls and found a scene unfolding: a brown-furred rabbit was in a heated argument with a rat guard. The rabbit was in full ''Moses mode,'' repeatedly shouting, ''Let my people go!'' and demanding freedom for the chattel, whom I knew, beneath his glamor, to be his human kin.


    Sighing, I stepped forward to aid James, who was clearly in the middle of the negotiation. Time to work my magic and strike yet another deal¡ªthis time, in the murky world of human bondage.

 Chapter 56

    Chapter 56


    Orion


    Day 42, Day 5 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    The lunch break was a storm brewing on the horizon, just about to break. Already we had burned through half our burger buns and meat, and the line outside showed no sign of slowing. To make matters worse, there were three troublemakers¡ªcustomers demanding discounts and extorting my cashier, agitating the fragile order of the midday rush.


    A hulking gnoll, nearly seven feet tall and carved with muscle, loomed over the counter. He was dressed in plain red linen, arms crossed, pestering Nax, my cashier, the poor boy just trying to keep his composure. Nax stammered, repeating that prices were firm.


    ¡°Listen here,¡± the brute growled, his voice thick with menace, ¡°everyone on this street pays us a protection fee. You¡¯re lucky the ol¡¯ Boss ain¡¯t here to collect himself.¡± His two lackeys, another gnoll and a frogman, chuckled low behind him.


    "Who are those guys?" I asked Slink, the rat vendor and former owner of my stand who had joined me after accepting my job offer yesterday. He glanced up from the grill, assessing the three intimidating customers.


    ¡°Hadrelian¡¯s men,¡± he muttered. ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d pay.¡±


    Slink¡¯s advice hung in the air as I plated another burger, but something within me rebelled. I left my station, stiletto dagger in hand, and approached the gnoll, pointing the end of the blade directly at him.


    "If you''re not paying, get out. Let the other customers order, or I''ll call the guards," I said, my voice flat and emotionless.


    The crowd stilled, a hush falling over them. It was like I¡¯d crossed a line I hadn¡¯t known existed. The gnoll¡¯s smile widened, slow and dark. ¡°You¡¯ll regret this.¡±


    Without another word, the trio pushed their way through the crowd, their red tunics vanishing into the city. The silence lingered a moment longer before business returned, albeit with a newfound tension.


    The rush pressed on, but the strain was starting to show. We were down to our last buns, and the bakery next door was working frantically to keep up with the demand. For his part, Slink was holding steady, pleased with the flood of customers. But my two cat helpers, Nax and Fleetpaw, looked like they were on the verge of tears.


    This is why they have child labor laws, I guess.


    Even though I was cranking out smashburgers as fast as possible, I still hadn¡¯t hit level 10. And as we approached our final bun, I told Nax to tell the waiting customers to "buzz off". Competitors along the street watched closely, likely taking notes. If I couldn¡¯t serve everyone, it wouldn¡¯t be long before "Burger Queens" popped up beside us.


    Luckily, I had bought up all the potatoes and tomatoes.


    Still, my business was thriving, and I made decent money despite the disturbances. My current coins are as follows:


    Second mints: 33


    Third mints: 168


    My coin purse was getting heavy. I¡¯d need to see Sophie to exchange them, but I hated being in her debt.


    ¡°Take a break, both of you,¡± I told the cat boys, handing over two Thirds, half of their daily pay. They scampered off, eager to enjoy their free time in the entertainment district and spend their hard-earned money.


    ¡°Slink. You stay here and take the deliveries. We¡¯ll prep for the dinner rush in two hours.¡±


    I handed the previous owner the cellar key he knew well from his former days running the stall. A nod of acknowledgment followed as my attention turned to the horizon, scanning for the familiar figure soaring high above.


    Before leaving, I grilled the last bit of venison into a meatball, blowing on it lightly. As if on cue, JD, my dark blue jackdaw friend, swooped down and perched on my shoulder. I dipped the meatball in green ketchup and held it up. JD pecked the meatball out of my hand in a swift motion, his sharp beak snapping up the prize and devouring it.


    Slink watched the bird with apprehension. ¡°Lord Clark, that¡¯s a jackdaw¡­ a harbinger of death,¡± he muttered, his voice low with wariness.


    Harbinger of death? That sounded metal.


    ¡°JD¡¯s the one who helped me clear your debt, Slink,¡± I reminded him as I stroked the bird¡¯s head.


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    ¡°A deal with a demon,¡± Slink whispered, stepping back in fear. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t trust it.¡±


    ¡°Superstition,¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Can you watch the stall while I exchange some coins?¡±


    As I walked away, Slink¡¯s voice followed, faint and pained. ¡°Of course, Lord Clark. This was my stall once...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back for the dinner rush,¡± I called over my shoulder, ignoring the rest of the sentiment. I couldn¡¯t solve every problem.


    For now, I wore a cat mask from Baxby¡¯s General Store to blend in with the street, dodging runners screaming ¡°Gachapon!¡± thinking I was Sophie. I needed to find her and exchange these mints. But first, I stopped by Baxby¡¯s again, buying parchment and charcoal for a Second.


    From my pocket, I pulled a tuft of Sophie¡¯s black hair, offering it to JD. The jackdaw examined it and then pecked my head, annoyed, as if I were a fool for suggesting it.


    Guess I can''t use him as a bloodhound.


    He launched into the air, circling high above. As I watched, I felt that familiar spark ignite within me¡ªa new skill unlocked. I reached into my palm, and there it was: a new card.


    Familiar: Contract


    The jackdaw wishes to form a familiar bond with you.


    Tapping this card will establish a familiar link with the jackdaw


    A jackdaw? If I were metagaming, it didn¡¯t seem like the most powerful familiar. Wolves, bears, and even the harpy eagles I¡¯d seen in the forest¡ªseemed like better choices. And then there was Rudolph, my mount, a sturdier ally. But I couldn¡¯t form natural connections like Astrid had with animals. This was likely one of my few chances to bond with a familiar at all.


    So far, I had made the best of my class and skills, and this would be no different. Without further hesitation, I activated the card.


    Familiar: Jackdaw ¡°JD¡± - D


    A clever and adaptable creature, distinguished by its dark blue plumage, silver mane, and striking pale eyes. This particular jackdaw has a taste for eyeballs and dried meat. Razor-sharp vision makes it a keen hunter and forager.


    With eyes closed, the wind rushed past and the city¡¯s heartbeat pulsed beneath my feet. The card thrummed in my hand as I dove deeper into JD¡¯s consciousness. Control wasn¡¯t fully mine, but his thoughts brushed against my own.


    "Hunter Monkey wants me to stalk pretty girl. Me, dog?"


    Even with the promise of his sharp vision, seeing through his eyes felt like peering through fogged glass. His head jerked left and right as he scoured the city streets, flitting over rooftops, until the haze cleared. Below, I could make out one figure in a white fox mask walking through town, but their exact location was still a mystery.


    ¡°Come back to me,¡± I urged silently, and JD obeyed, diving down to land on my shoulder.


    I tore a scrap from the parchment I¡¯d bought earlier and scribbled a quick note:


    ¡°Wher R U?.


    Snd msg back?


    -Rye¡±


    Tying it to JD¡¯s leg with twine, I reached into my pack for a piece of pemmican. JD snatched it up, beak clicking, and took off with my charcoal pencil in his beak, vanishing into the city once more.


    As I moved through the town¡¯s heart, there was a familiar twinge on the back of my neck again¡ªan awareness that I was being followed. It wasn¡¯t Fleetpaw or a runner this time. Ducking into a nearby alley and then a sewer tunnel, I slipped through the dim passages, trying to lose whoever was on my tail. But as I reached a storm grate, my escape was blocked by metal grates.


    Turning back, I saw them¡ªthree figures looming at the entry: two gnolls and a frogman. Recognition hit. These were the same ones who had tried to strong-arm my stall earlier.


    ¡°Aye, look what we have here, fellas,¡± the larger gnoll said, his voice dripping with glee. ¡°The cook with the loud mouth. You wanna threaten us again with that little knife of yours, cook?¡± He stepped forward, long sword in hand, flanked by his companions¡ªa frog with a crossbow aimed at me and a smaller gnoll wielding a morning star.


    The lead gnoll, now armored in a bronze-visored helm, grinned. His sword gleamed in the low light. The other two were less protected, one wearing light leather, the other clad in mismatched armor.


    The frogman croaked, ¡°I saw him carryin¡¯ a sack of coins. We¡¯re gonna be rich.¡±


    ¡°Should we make him beg, or¡ª¡±


    Before the morning star-wielding gnoll could finish his sentence, a throwing knife whistled through the air and dug into his throat. His body fell, blood spraying from the wound. Beside him, the frog-like creature crumpled a second later, a bolt of iron piercing through his skull. The impact, aided by a Deadly Shot and the knife''s armor-piercing edge, left two new air holes in the side of his bronze cap.


    The leader stood frozen, too stunned at the sudden collapse of both his men to react.


    His voice quivered, ¡°Once Hadrelian finds out¡ª¡±


    Like a flash, I vanished into the shadows, my Shadow Walk passively activated. In a heartbeat, I was upon him, driving my stiletto into the crease beneath his arm, forcing it up to his collar. He screamed, red gore spilling from the wound and pooling in his armpit as I wrenched the dagger free. With the last of his strength, he swung his sword at me¡ªwildly, almost drunken¡ªbut I met the attack with a Parry, redirecting it with a precise motion that left him staggered. That fleeting moment of dazed confusion was all I needed. I twisted my wrist, aligning the dagger with the slit in his visor, and thrust forward, making his helmet seep at the seams like a freshly squeezed blood orange.


    Turning back, I retrieved the throwing knife from the other gnoll''s throat. His eyes were wide with panic, hands futilely trying to stem the flow of blood. I grabbed his morning star and smashed it into the boss gnoll¡¯s helmet, cracking the metal with a sickening crunch¡ªand did the same to the frog¡ªbefore dropping it beside its original owner. Then, using the frog¡¯s crossbow, I shot the last living gnoll in the throat, finishing him with a final bolt to the face, before placing the weapon back in the frog''s hands. Dragging their bodies, I made it look like a Mexican standoff gone wrong.


    Frantic urgency kicked in. Three Seconds and Seven Thirds were pocketed from the bodies. There was more loot, but time was running short. Sticking around wasn¡¯t an option¡ªnot with bystanders or, worse, a guard potentially on the way.


    My hood was up as I slipped from the sewer pipe, the shadows folding around me like a cloak. I moved with purpose¡ªnot too fast to draw attention, but not slow enough to linger. Horror gnawed at the back of my mind. What I¡¯d done¡­ those beastkin weren¡¯t just mindless creatures. Time among them had confirmed what I feared: they had thoughts and feelings, no different from humans. Before, they were just random monsters who had arrived on my shores to destroy my home and family.


    But if I kept moving forward, if I didn¡¯t stop to think, I could run away from those doubts. Hesitation was death. Doubt meant defeat. I had to believe that.


    Those men weren¡¯t innocent people. I can¡¯t afford to die or get captured. Even if I had to leave a heap of corpses behind, I had to return to Cass and Thornhill in one piece.


    Just when I thought my troubles might be behind me, a familiar caw broke through the stillness. JD returned, perching on my shoulder with a ruffle of his dark blue feathers. I reached into my pack and fed him a piece of pemmican, the small price for his service.


    With trembling fingers and my heart still throbbing in my chest from my little skirmish, I untied the twine wrapped around his leg and unrolled the scrap of parchment. On the reverse side of my message, hurried words were scrawled in response:


    ¡°Buyn slaves @


    merc guild


    - Soph ?¡±

 Chapter 57

    Chapter 57


    James


    Day 45, Day 5 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    How did it all come to this? Bartering for human slaves. What was the price of a human life? Well, it turns out to be 100 Firsts divided by 3.


    ¡°100 Firsts for the lot?¡± The rugged, tawny cat proposed to Sophie, his voice rasped like gravel grinding underfoot.


    Bronzeclaw, the junior quartermaster, stood there with an air of practiced indifference. Tasked with selling and managing the Ironclad Company¡¯s more sordid dealings, the guild now sold chattel as casually as they did swords. His scarred face¡ªone particularly nasty mark slashing across his left eye¡ªspoke of battles fought recently. What difference was there between him and the pirates we faced? One worked for a government, the other for a gang. The product was the same¡ªflesh.


    ¡°100 Firsts? One of them is an old man. The other looks like he hasn''t eaten in months, and the woman¡­ she¡¯s far too old for any decent brothel,¡± Sophie said coolly, glancing dismissively at the caged souls.


    ¡°That¡¯s a glassblower right there!¡± Bronzeclaw countered, jabbing his clawed finger toward a tall figure¡ªa man in his thirties with a scruffy, hay-colored beard and a face that seemed to carry the weight of too many winters. His limbs were little more than skin stretched over bones, bound tight.


    ¡°The woman¡¯s comely enough,¡± he continued, ¡°plenty of work left in her yet. Might fetch a decent price in a less reputable bordello.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a couple months pregnant,¡± Sophie remarked, her voice casual, as she commented on something mundane like the weather. ¡°You really expect me to pay full price for that?¡±


    The woman, in her late twenties, had plain features framed by knotted, split hair. The old man huddled in the corner like a ghost, waiting for his time to slip away.


    ¡°Nothing a little tansy can¡¯t fix,¡± Bronzeclaw replied, his confidence wavering. ¡°I can let you have the woman and the old man for 10 Firsts. The glassblower, though, he¡¯s a gem¡ªworth at least 200 Firsts up north.¡±


    I could hardly believe my ears. They were talking about human beings. Am I losing the plot?


    ¡°Does he have a class?¡± Sophie asked, her voice hardening.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Bronzeclaw faltered, the hint of a lie creeping into his tone. ¡°He¡¯s a fine glassblower. Got his Slave card right here. Can attest he¡¯s a master glassblower.¡± He produced a glowing blue card from his palm, showcasing three Slave cards, each a mark of ownership.


    The Slave card system operated much like the Deed or Contract system. Even those without classes could inherit or obtain cards, despite lacking a class. The only issue was that they needed the appropriate class to forge the cards themselves. I suspected that a Mayor or Founder could create Deed cards, a Merchant or Banker could draft Contracts, and a Slaver or ¡°Master¡± could bind Slaves.


    ¡°Order him to show me his class card,¡± Sophie said, her impatience bubbling just beneath the surface.


    ¡°Listen¡­ he doesn¡¯t have a class yet¡­ but I assure you. These Chattels take to classes like fish to water. He¡¯ll have a class in no time,¡± Bronzeclaw stammered, his bravado cracking.


    ¡°You¡¯re trying to hock classless wares as Holders? A pregnant woman, a decrepit old man on the brink of death, and a classless glassblower for 100 Firsts? I should bring this up with the Merchant¡¯s Guild. Perhaps they¡¯ll reconsider their association with the Ironclad Company!¡± Sophie¡¯s fists were curled into tight balls, her faux outrage playing for an audience.


    Bravo, my girl. You¡¯d be splendid in a theatre production, no doubt.


    ¡°Whoa, whoa, calm down, my lovely White Fox. No need to make a scene. Captain Stonehook will have my head if I don¡¯t get at least 50 Firsts for them. The Duke¡¯s gotta get his cut, too, you know,¡± Bronzeclaw said, his tail twitching nervously.


    ¡°Fine, I can maybe find some use for these¡­ lost souls¡­ for oh, 400 Seconds,¡± Sophie sighed, as though the offer were a great concession.


    ¡°But¡­ 50 Firsts is 500 Seconds at least!¡±


    ¡°Not anymore, it isn¡¯t. I take it you don¡¯t pay much attention to the markets. 400 Seconds. Last offer.¡± She clicked her tongue, her annoyance hanging in the air like a foul smell, as though she had a much better place to be.


    ¡°Fine. Take them. Someone else can deal with feeding and washing em¡¯.¡± Exhaustion was etched into Bronzeclaw¡¯s scarred features as he produced the three Slave cards, each one a testament to a life reduced to mere property.


    With the exchange of coins, Sophie reached for the cards, and with a simple confirmation of ownership, the shackles of control shifted to her. For a moment, she froze, her breath coming in heavy as if a great weight had been thrown over her shoulders. But then, like a seasoned actress recovering from a stumble, she straightened, her merchant¡¯s facade sliding back into place.


    As Bronzeclaw fumbled with his keyring to unlock the cage, I asked, ¡°Why only Chattel? Where are the beastkin slaves?¡±


    ¡°The Eldrin usually only collar Chattel. Collars are a bloody fortune, you see¡ªsilver, finely crafted. The few beastkin that get caught can have their families pay for their freedom. We don¡¯t charge much; beastkin gotta stick together.¡± Bronzeclaw shrugged as if the matter was hardly worth his time.


    ¡°These Chattel¡­ they don¡¯t have families?¡± I pressed, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut.


    Bronzeclaw let out a hearty laugh.


    Bloody hell, if I had to hear ¡°You¡¯re not from around here, are you?¡± one more time, I might just lose my mind.


    ¡°If they had family, they¡¯d either be in Auriel or caught alongside them.¡±


    Auriel. The very heart of the human slave trade. As a diplomat, I¡¯d been forced to learn more about our grim situation abroad, and now, the land we stood on¡ªthe Duchies of the Azure Reach, ruled by Queen Seraphina¡ªallowed Chattel slaves but banned Eldrin Slave Masters, those insidious foreign agents seeping over the border to snatch uncollared humans from the surrounding villages and farms.


    Uncollared humans, huh? I knew just the place with a surplus of those. A shudder crawled up my spine.


    Three humans stood before us, dressed in plain linen rags, stripped of their dignity. Their vacant stares reminded me of livestock, a sight that twisted my gut. At Sophie¡¯s command, the middle-aged man rose as if pulled by an invisible string. In contrast, the elder wore a defiant scowl, a flicker of resistance still burning in his weary eyes¡ªa look every human should carry, the desire for freedom.


    We led them out of their cages, and they followed us to the Mercenary Guild¡¯s lot, the weight of their new reality hanging heavily in the air. Bronzeclaw slipped away to return to the offices of the Mercenary Guild, leaving us alone with our conscience. Beastkin passed us by, their curious gazes flicking toward the three humans standing there, poised for commands.


    ¡°You¡¯re free to go,¡± I said warmly in Lokan. The three exchanged puzzled glances. ¡°You¡¯re free, my friends.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Sophie interjected, her voice laced with confusion. ¡°We just paid good money for them.¡±


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


    ¡°Sophie, set them free,¡± I urged.


    ¡°We can¡¯t.¡± She shook her head, a faint trace of sorrow¡ªor was it just fatigue?¡ªclouding her expression. ¡°Someone will just capture them again. Besides, our town needs a glassblower.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± I stared at her, incredulous. ¡°You see them as property? Are you having a laugh?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think I paid 400 Seconds for no reason. What do you think we¡¯re here for besides resources? Thornhill needs immigrants and workers.¡± Her voice was steady, but I hoped I noticed a hint of sadness.


    ¡°Can you just stop with your basic economics bullshit for once, Sophie? These are human beings, for god¡¯s sake! Let them live their own lives! We must free them!¡± My fists curled tightly at my sides.


    Everything I¡¯d learned from history echoed through my mind, a relentless reminder of how wrong this was. We have a chance to do the right thing now. Free the slaves. Save our souls.


    Just as our heated discussion reached a boiling point, a large dark blue bird swooped down, landing on Sophie¡¯s shoulder. She let out a startled cry as it dropped a charcoal pencil onto the cobbled street. Once she calmed, she reached for the pencil and examined the jackdaw with newfound curiosity. This was the same bird that had taken a liking to Orion.


    Sophie unwrapped a note from the bird¡¯s leg, reading it with a soft laugh before jotting something down on the back. She tied the message back onto the winged messenger.


    The bird scanned its surroundings before pecking Sophie lightly on the side of the head, as if to say, ¡°Hurry it up!¡± The surprised yelp that escaped her lips only made it flap its wings and take off into the sky.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, bewildered.


    ¡°Orion¡¯s bird brought a message. He¡¯s in charge of the expedition. He¡¯ll agree with me.¡± Sophie wore a smug smile.


    I turned to the bewildered humans, and their wariness was evident after our argument, which was conducted in an alien language.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked in Lokan, hoping to break the ice.


    ¡°My name is Wulfric, and this is Edith. The elder is named Ulf,¡± the glassblower replied, his voice carrying a subdued deference.


    ¡°Unusual. Anglo-Saxon names¡­¡± I mused aloud. ¡°Are you from Englaland or Saxonland?¡±


    ¡°Englaland¡­?¡± Edith echoed, rolling the words off her tongue. Despite her Anglo-Saxon appearance, her accent was peculiar¡ªmelodic like Swahili rather than the harsh tones of Old English.


    ¡°Who named you?¡± I pressed, intrigued.


    ¡°Our parents did¡­ before we ran away,¡± Wulfric said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice.


    ¡°Ran away? Were you from the North then?¡± Sophie asked, her curiosity piqued.


    ¡°Yes, Master,¡± Wulfric said, the title slipping from his lips with a sense of resignation. ¡°Only way to get free is to run south and hide.¡±


    At the sound of ¡°Master,¡± Sophie stiffened, her carefully crafted mask faltering for a brief moment. Ulf, the eldest, remained silent, his gaze averted, unwilling to engage.


    ¡°Sophie¡­ can¡¯t you see? They just want their freedom. They¡¯re human beings. Surely, you can see that? We have to let them go,¡± I pleaded, my voice tinged with urgency.


    ¡°What happens if we free you?¡± Sophie countered, skepticism creeping in.


    ¡°You cannot. We are bound to your service, Master. Until you transfer us to another,¡± Wulfric replied, his tone flat.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do, then,¡± Sophie shrugged, a hint of finality in her voice as if the matter was settled.


    Before I could respond, Orion emerged from the shadows, almost ghostlike in his silence. I hadn¡¯t even heard him approach. He glanced at the slaves, then back at us, a deep sigh escaping him. ¡°Why did you buy slaves?¡±


    ¡°Because we are human beings with hearts?¡± I shot back. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m stuck with two sociopaths. Am I the only one here who cares about freeing slaves?¡±


    ¡°Let them go. This isn¡¯t our problem,¡± Orion said, his tone cutting.


    ¡°Orion, we can¡¯t free them. They¡¯re bound to me,¡± Sophie insisted, brandishing the Slave cards like a shield.


    ¡°Oh, for Chrissake¡­¡± Orion groaned, burying his face in his hands. ¡°Can¡¯t you just unbind them? Tell them to get lost and run for the hills?¡±


    ¡°We have to take them back to Thornhill. Bianca would agree with me on this one,¡± Sophie replied.


    Orion moved closer, examining the collars around their necks¡ªa ring of metal unbroken at their throats, connected through a magical stream that held them captive. He reached out, attempting to loosen it, but a sharp jolt shot through him, and he recoiled, shaking his hands as if scalded.


    ¡°Will they follow any of your commands?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°Protect me!¡±


    At her urgent plea, the three slaves, even the old man, instantly moved, surrounding Sophie in a triangle guard position as if pulled by strings. Orion could only stare for a moment before shaking his head.


    ¡°Command them to go far away, to live a quiet, happy life hidden in the wilderness. We¡¯ll give them the supplies they need to get there,¡± Orion said.


    I moved behind him, rubbing his shoulders, my voice dripping with pride as I proclaimed, ¡°O Captain! My Captain!¡±


    ¡°You boys are being ridiculous,¡± Sophie said with a disdainful scoff. ¡°They¡¯ll have a much better life at Thornhill.¡±


    ¡°As slaves?¡± I challenged, appalled.


    ¡°They can be free in Thornhill to do as they please. I won¡¯t order them around; they¡¯ll do as they wish,¡± Sophie shrugged.


    ¡°They¡¯ll draw too much attention to us. We don¡¯t know where they come from.¡± For the first time, fear tinged Orion¡¯s voice, and it sent a chill through me. ¡°We don¡¯t know what baggage they¡¯ll bring with them if we take them back. It¡¯s too risky.¡±


    ¡°Orion, Bianca would agree with me. You know it. We need people and she would be more than willing to help shelter slaves. I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re so against this. If you want the village to grow, this is how,¡± Sophie said, crossing her arms and letting out a huffy sigh.


    Orion rubbed his temple as if a sudden headache had hit him. It was clear he knew something we didn¡¯t. Normally, he was so pragmatic about Thornhill¡¯s needs, yet now he seemed resistant to Sophie¡¯s ideas. I, on the other hand, found the thought of buying slaves for our city¡¯s labor pool sickening. But... if they were free to choose their work, perhaps there was some merit in it.


    I was slowly swaying to Sophie¡¯s side, contemplating the idea of bringing them back to Thornhill.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go back to the inn,¡± Orion decided. ¡°We can talk there.¡±


    So the five of us marched toward the inn, Orion¡¯s corvid soaring above us. As we walked, Orion exchanged a few coins with Sophie for a sack of Thirds. A feeling of shame washed over me as we paraded our slaves through the streets.


    Once at the inn, we retreated to the family room that Orion and I shared, shutting the door behind us. Orion removed his mask, revealing to the Chattel that he was a human, just like them. Sophie followed suit, and I took off my glamour as well. The three Chattel stared at us, caught between amazement and confusion.


    ¡°You¡¯re Ch¡ª¡± Wulfric gasped.


    Sophie shushed them, placing a finger to her lips and winking.


    ¡°What happens if your master tells you to live freely? To do whatever you want?¡± Orion asked the slaves in Lokan.


    ¡°We would likely flee, only to be captured again,¡± the old man finally spoke up. ¡°If we¡¯re far from our former master, they can strip our current master¡¯s claim, and we shall fall under new ownership.¡±


    ¡°Please. You are unbound Chattel,¡± Edith said, hope glimmering in her eyes. ¡°If we must have masters, let them be other Chattel. You will treat us with decency.¡±


    The cook gritted his teeth, clearly wrestling with his thoughts.


    ¡°Sophie, tell them to keep our identities quiet. If they don¡¯t draw too much attention, we can take them back to Thornhill. But if they do, we¡¯ll have to cut them loose.¡± Orion slipped on his cat mask, shaking his head with regret. ¡°I¡¯ve got a dinner rush to prepare for.¡±


    It almost seemed like Orion was escaping, unwilling to face this reality right now.


    ¡°Wonderful! They can come work for me,¡± Sophie mused, clapping her hands together. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look, James. I¡¯ll pay them.¡±


    Afterward, the three of us parted ways, with Sophie leading the slaves to the market to buy them new clothes. I lingered in the street, torn about what to do, and realized I needed to return to the puppet master to prepare for tonight¡¯s show.


    How could I possibly perform with this weighing on my conscience? There were likely more like them out there. Back in my old world, I hadn¡¯t exactly gone out of my way to help the unfortunate, but I could at least assist those close to me. To do that, I needed money. So, I headed back to the puppet master, hoping to earn enough coins to free just one more slave.

 Chapter 58

    Chapter 58


    Orion


    Day 45, Day 5 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    The harder I worked, the more I could push aside bigger problems, like the nagging questions in my head¡ªquestions that, in quieter moments, made me feel trapped, as if I were sinking into quicksand. Questions like, ''Is everyone in Thornhill going to end up as slaves?'' or, ''How do we defend a small village of fifty people against powerful continent-spanning empires?¡¯ But those were worries for another day, and I¡¯d face them when I was ready. Right now, I needed to hit level ten in my Cook class and break through level six in my Throwing Weapon and Path of the Dagger skills. If I wanted to protect Thornhill¡ªmy people¡ªI needed to grow stronger and trust that those back home, the holders, would do the same.


    And thus, I busied myself at the food stall, serving burgers and steering clear of the ''chattel'' situation¡ªthe human slaves Sophie and James had ''freed.''


    My current distraction was handling the last few customers for the night, as our supplies of pickled cucumbers, buns, and condiments were nearly depleted. After serving the last two customers, I handed the reins to Slink, part of my plan to train him as my eventual replacement. The former stand owner nervously flipped the burger with care, though it landed a bit off-center on the onions. Watching him, I could tell he was experienced. Even if he''d never made a burger before, he took to my instructions in the kitchen like a prodigy. His knife skills and prep work were on par with a veteran¡¯s, and he could keep pace with me despite not having a class. His body barely moved as he straightened the patty with a trowel and topped it with a slice of cheese once the onions had caramelized.


    ¡°Want to take over? As manager of this stand, I mean.¡± I asked.


    ¡°You mean you''ll give me the stall back?¡± Slink¡¯s ears twitched with excitement.


    Well, let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you run it. You pay me a small royalty each day, and the rest is yours.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d really do that, milord?¡± Slink¡¯s eyes almost watered.


    "I¡¯m just here to gain some experience and a bit of coin. I still need the stall for when I¡¯m in town to... lev¡ªuh, I mean, practice my trade. But I¡¯ve got other things to handle around town.¡±


    As I finished cleaning up, I handed each Nax and Fleetpaw three Thirds, knowing they''d likely pass it to their deadbeat father. Then I gave Slink five¡ªgenerous, given most earned just one a day. He took his wages and, almost by reflex, began packing the tools and pans into the cellar, getting back into his usual routine before I took over.


    ¡°If I accept... can I sleep in the cellar, at least for now?¡± Slink asked quietly, clearly embarrassed.


    His bedrolls were still tucked in the corners down there. The dank air made it far from comfortable, but I didn¡¯t push the issue. He¡¯d have enough Thirds for a proper room soon enough, but for now, it was his choice. If I kept shelling out for every pity case in this city, I wouldn¡¯t have enough to get what I needed to protect Thornhill.


    Can¡¯t solve every problem in this town.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I handed him the keys. ¡°I might not be here tomorrow, so hopefully you can manage it yourself.¡±


    ¡°Can I hire more workers?¡± Slink asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re the manager. Just make sure Nax and Fleetpaw have a job here.¡± I turned away and waved goodbye, disappearing into the growing darkness of the night.


    After converting part of my earlier earnings into higher coinage and deducting wages, the total from tonight''s shift stood as follows:


    5 First Mints


    11 Second Mints


    44 Third MInts


    Plenty of money remained to buy supplies: a new cloak, bags, another pair of boots, more socks and undergarments, and plenty of glass bottles of cheap liquor¡ªnot for drinking, as I never found the taste of alcohol pleasant, but for the crafting of Molotovs.


    Lamplighters dotted the streets, their flickering flames illuminating the clear night sky, while the entertainment district buzzed with preparations for the evening¡¯s festivities. Spotting a musician¡ªa gnoll with long fingers and a braided red ponytail¡ªtuning his lute, I approached him with questions. There was one more important purchase I needed to make.


    ¡°Where can you purchase that instrument? Are you selling it?¡± I asked.


    Gabriel, a singer and musician back in town, had asked me if I could bring him back a guitar on my trip. In return, when I built a tavern, he would play at it every week. He¡¯d keep the tips of course.


    ¡°This is my livelihood, good sir,¡± the gnoll replied, fingers dancing over the strings of his lute. ¡°If it be a guitar ye seek, best catch a ferry to Port Havenreach¡ªthis town holds no specialty music shops. Otherwise, venture to the general store or seek a craftsman at the Builder¡¯s Guild, who might fashion one for ye.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± came the reply, just as the gnoll coughed loudly and gestured toward the large leather hat open wide at his feet.


    A Third dropped into the hat, though it felt steep for information that could have been pieced together independently.


    Strolling the streets, I saw a large, captivated crowd gather near a puppet show stage. It was mostly composed of children with their hands covering their faces, while their parents nervously chewed on snacks. Wealthier families, dressed in their finest evening silks, occupied raised seats, sipping purple-colored liquor from crystal goblets and enjoying platters of tiny cakes.


    With deft hands, the puppeteer brought two lion puppets to life, each move precise and mesmerizing. Bathed in enchanting lighting effects, the scene unfolded before a backdrop of a painted wooden plank resembling an iconic rocky cliff. Above the yellow lion puppet, adorned with a crown, hovered a more teddy bear-like version of a black-maned lion with a scar across its left eye. With every tug on the strings, the crown-wearing lion struggled to cling to the cliff''s edge, its desperate movements vividly portraying the fight for survival against the perilous drop below where shadows of stampeding wildebeest flickered in the background.


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    ¡°Long live the king!¡± I heard in Lokan.


    ¡°Nooooooooooooo! Was cried out from the young lion cub in Lokan but in a foreign accent.


    So this must have been what James was up to.


    The crowd gasped and some children screamed as they watched the puppet dramatically thud on the stage floor, made by the sound of James stomping his feet on the cobblestones. Not a single watcher, not even the parents, had dry eyes when the young lion cub came over to find the body of the ¡°dead¡± puppet king.


    The man portraying the scarred lion sent an icy chill coursing through my veins as I caught sight of him behind the stage, deftly drawing skill cards from his palms to manipulate the effects unfolding before the audience. His features, long ears and far-apart eyes, mirrored those of the pirate wizard who had once invaded our shores, the same one responsible for Clark''s demise, yet his appearance leaned more toward the human side of the spectrum. My hand instinctively reached for my throwing dagger, but I forced myself to resist. After all, James was working with him, suggesting he couldn¡¯t be all that bad.


    During the intermission, as Scar, the lion villain, proclaimed the dawn of a new age, shadows of hyenas flickered ominously in the backdrop. The audience was captivated, leaning forward in their seats, eager for more. James, disguised as a rabbit, joined the puppetmaster on stage, both bowing to the crowd, who clamored for the performance to continue. The duo moved among the audience, collecting coins as an incentive to keep the show going, and soon amassed a considerable bounty.


    I already knew how this show would play out, so I left James to do his thing.


    As I wandered through the entertainment district, each bright stall and lively crowd only deepened the guilt gnawing at me. Thornhill was struggling, and here I was, indulging in the city¡¯s comforts. Sure, the thought of those hunting ¡°Chattel¡± kept me on edge here, but that danger would still be present upon my return to Thornhill. It was a shame that humans had to live on the run. If it weren''t for the pervasive slave trade, it would have been simpler to relocate our people here in a town already built. Instead, we were forced to take the long path to build a proper town from scratch with the looming fear of raiders and a foreign empire sweeping the lands for us.


    A fortune teller caught my eye, draped in a hooded blue robe. She resembled a black cat, her gray-speckled fur, wise old eyes, and missing teeth giving her an air of mystique. Though her aura beckoned, superstition held little appeal for me. Just as I felt a shiver run down my spine, signaling that someone was approaching from behind, I instinctively reached for my stiletto¡ªonly to be startled by Sophie grabbing my arm.


    She wore her boar mask and a flight attendant uniform that clung tightly to her body, the fabric enveloping her flesh against mine that left me confused, stunlocked, and annoyed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t sneak up on me like that. I nearly stabbed you,¡± I said, letting out a deep breath before unclenching my hands on the grip of my dagger.


    ¡°Oh, come on, Orion, do you ever relax? This is why you¡¯ll never get a girlfriend,¡± Sophie said mischievously.


    ¡°Were you doing Gachapon?¡± I asked her.


    ¡°Yeah, got quite a score this time, too. Those runners had orders to spend whatever for these teapots.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­ who helped you?¡±


    ¡°My slaves.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t call them that, please.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, Edith and Wulfric did. I let Ulf take the night off; I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll squeeze much hard work out of those old bones.¡± Sophie stretched like a cat before resting her head on my shoulder.


    ¡°Where are they now?¡± I asked, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to dislodge her clingy form.


    ¡°Back at the inn. Relax; I got them bedrolls. They¡¯ll be hidden there for a while,¡± she replied, then pointed at the fortune teller. ¡°Oh! Look. I want to try.¡±


    Dragging me in front of the fortune teller, Sophie nudged me. ¡°You owe me some commission. Pay her two Thirds.¡±


    After I handed over the coins, the fortune teller produced a deck of cards. These weren¡¯t the ordinary playing cards I used for my ordering system; they were longer, their backs painted with a black cosmos and shimmering stars.


    The fortune teller drew a card and pushed it toward Sophie, who sat on the left side of the table. The card displayed a golden scale, its script unreadable to me.


    ¡°The Scale,¡± the fortune teller pronounced, her voice a soft, high-pitched meow. She quickly drew another card, placing it atop the first one before Sophie.


    ¡°The Maiden.¡± And then another.


    ¡°The Widow.¡±


    ¡°The Mountain.¡±


    ¡°The Gold Coin.¡±


    ¡°The Nomad.¡±


    With six cards drawn, she fanned it out in front of Sophie. ¡°If you wish for a reading, another Third shall be required.¡±


    ¡°This is an obvious scam,¡± I said, shaking my head.


    Sophie was compelled by the cards and fetched a coin to get her reading.


    Why do the quirky ones always get so into fortune-telling?


    ¡°A true master would demand no less than a Second for such a service. I am no master of the reading, but I shall attempt yours,¡± the Fortune Teller purred, her voice carrying an air of ancient mystery. ¡°The cards tell the story of the Merchant¡¯s Curse and the tale of being unable to let go: You are destined to amass great riches in your lifetime, yet be forewarned¡ªyou will only find what you wish for when it is too late.¡±


    With her mask on, I had no idea what Sophie was thinking, but her body stilled.


    The Fortune Teller turned her gaze on me, her hand hovering over the deck before she drew the first card.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know,¡± I said firmly, but she continued nonetheless drawing cards and placing them in front of me.


    ¡°The Shadow.¡±


    ¡°The Mountain.¡±


    ¡°The Crow.¡±


    ¡°The Kingmaker.¡±


    ¡°The Rope.¡±


    ¡°The Chain.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I turned around, but Sophie stayed, placing another Third on the table.


    What was the point of listening to a prophecy? If it were a bogus scam, it wouldn¡¯t matter. If it were a true prophecy, it would only be self-fulfilling. I would try to fight it and in the end, it would happen anyway.


    Upon returning to the inn, I paid the innkeeper for a bath, which came with a pot of hot water and a fragrant bar of soap. As the satisfying rush of steam filled the room, warmth washed over me. I scrubbed away the day¡¯s grime with my nails, lathered my face with suds, and then took the edge of my knife to shave it clean. Sinking into the moment, the tension in my muscles melted away.


    Once refreshed, I ascended the creaking stairs, feeling lighter with each step. The comfort of the bath lingered, a brief respite from my worries.


    On the floor lay the two men we had purchased earlier, the human natives and collared. One was an old, withered man in his fifties, while the other was a gruff thirty-year-old, his sunken cheeks framing strong, lean hands. Though accustomed to cramped quarters with practical strangers, I still gripped my dagger tightly as I settled into bed.


    Sometime later, a half-drunk James crashed onto the bed beside me, his weight jostling the mattress. Rest eluded me, and I repeatedly rose to pace the dimly lit room, unease gnawing at my stomach, until sleep finally claimed me.


    Morning came with the rhythmic chanting of our collared roommates rousing us from sleep. Kneeling on their bedrolls, both men had their hands clasped on their shoulders, eyes closed in silent reverence.


    ¡°Come to us, Erandor. Deliver us from bondage. Take us to Sanctuary. Come to us, Erandor. Deliver us from bondage. Take us to Sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°Erandor huh¡­ Must be their god," James muttered, rubbing his temples and wincing as his hangover kicked in.


    He reached into his pocket, pulled out a Dictionary card, and slid ''Erandor'' into the slot. The word vanished as the card absorbed it, glowing briefly before revealing fragments of its translation.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ strange. It¡¯s not just a name; it¡¯s a title. It¡¯s not in Lokan but an unfamiliar language, though its etymology shares roots with a similar mother language. It comprises two words I recognize in Lokan.¡±


    ¡°What words?¡± I asked, intrigued, as I got up and stretched.


    ¡°The English translation would be something like ¡®Magebane,¡¯¡± James mused, shrugging as he tucked the card away.

 Chapter 59

    Chapter 59


    Cameron


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 327


    Fira (May) 9, 611 IE


    Our company, the Red Scythe, was encamped west of Port Havenreach, a journey of four days by march. Hadrelian had driven us hard. We swept through the southern wilds of the Azure Reach, pursuing rumors about an escaped colony of Chattel hidden in a small farming village in the Wenvale Pass, that long stretch of grasslands between Havenreach and Kronfeldt. The local Beastkin had taken the Chattel in, a temptation that proved too great for many.


    For it was often said that Chattel, when given a class, were prolific workers, lightening the burdens of those who harbored them. These whispers grew stronger when Chattel built new farms, where fields would prosper, and villages would rise quickly. Yet just as swiftly, a Master leading a company of outlaws like ours, the Red Scythe, would come to reap the harvest, collect the fruit, and try smuggling them across the border north back to Auriel, a machine that ran on the back of human slaves.


    But we had only six collars left, and our stores of food and water were running low. If we didn¡¯t find our quarry soon, we¡¯d have to return to the outskirts of Kronfeldt to resupply. Havenreach had grown too dangerous for raiders¡ªmercenary companies swarmed the region, hired to ensure the Queen''s precious spices and tea continued to flow from the port back to the capital.


    And it came to pass, after a day¡¯s march into the northwest, that we entered the mountain passes, where we spotted signs of civilization amidst the wilderness, a land filled with troglodytes. We spied a vantage point from which to survey the realm before us. A small village nestled in a clearing, concealed by the great mountains, revealed unto us its humble huts of timber. In the outskirts, fields of wheat flourished under the watchful sun.


    Woolly mountain goats were tended by a solitary Beastkin, a creature of black fur, resembling a mouse. The settlement comprised five small buildings, and it was evident that this frontier farm belonged to Beastkin herders who had taken in the Chattel as laborers. Near the heart of the village, we observed several of the Chattel laboring diligently to raise a small granary. Seven. They toiled with fervor, some disappearing within the structure for stretches of time.


    In total, the spoils appeared meager: seven Chattel and four beastkin. Yet, Hadrelian spoke, ¡°It is better to return with something than to come back empty-handed.¡±


    And the leader¡¯s trusted captains, Catus and Drusselian, clad in light armor, rode forth on their brilliant white mounts with a band of raiders to scout the path ahead. They would encircle and prevent any retreat from the villagers.


    As night fell, Drudus, a brother of Hadrelian, withdrew a card from his palm and activated it. His eyes shone with a blue light, and he approached Hadrelian with these words:


    ¡°They¡¯re in position, brother.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Let us march onward to claim our prize,¡± Hadrelian declared, sealing the lid of his helm.


    Though the leader of the Red Scythe wielded formidable magic, he opted for red iron plate armor intricately adorned with golden patterns. His helm, crowned with two gleaming golden horns, cast an imposing shadow over his visage. At his side hung a steel sword, long, curved, sharp, and unyielding, much like the man who bore it.


    The Red Scythe¡¯s excessive caution in a mere backwater such as this revealed their deep-seated paranoia. The ailing Duke had neglected the protection of his frontiers, yet his bannermen and local nobles hired mercenaries to eliminate any Eldrins and raiders threatening the Southern Crown of the Azure Reach and their various interests in the region.


    We advanced toward the small village to execute a night raid, our mounted riders speeding ahead. With a fierce cry, Hadrelian unleashed Meteor Strike, fireballs raining down upon the villagers'' homes. He intended to smoke them out rather than slay them, targeting the corners as if igniting the kindling that would ultimately consume each dwelling.


    Drudus, his brother, conjured a Smoke Fog that enveloped the village.


    To our astonishment, none of the villagers fled the inferno. Instead, from the granary, a thunderous march resonated, echoing like a battle cry. Soon, three hundred ironclad soldiers emerged, spears drawn and shields raised. Behind them, a cadre of archers loosed arrows in our direction which were blocked by wards and barriers summoned by our two powerful sorcerers.


    Varon, my commander and Master, commanded us¡ªthe archers¡ªto return fire, and so we did.


    I activated Sniper Shot, drawing my longbow and releasing an arrow high into the night sky. From afar, it arced, sizzling like a bullet, striking a mercenary in the neck with deadly precision. A curse escaped my lips as pain shot through my body whenever I thought about ignoring my orders.


    Why was I forced to do this? Why? Miss, damn you! Miss!


    My hands snatched another card, activating Rain of Arrows. This time, as I drew my bow and released, my arrow split into ten shards, raining havoc upon the phalanx of spears, shattering their formation.


    And thus, I beheld in the distance an epic clash¡ªa great battle between the cadre of mercenary mages and our two mages Hadrelian and Drudus. Fire rained down as balls of flame met spheres of ice; magic missiles and lightning bolts danced through the air. While we mere mortals played with sticks and stones in our feeble skirmish, the mages unleashed upon one another the very power of the gods.


    Such was the scene upon the battlefield in this realm. We soldiers were merely shields for the mages, whose unmatched power dictated the outcome. There were no tactics or strategies at play¡ªonly the sheer will of the strongest, turning entire armies into fodder to bolster their might. It was the law of the powerful; whosoever among the mages claimed victory first would determine the fate of the field, reducing all others to ash¡ªunless they possessed sorcerous wards of protection.


    It is well known that mages hold dominion over war. Their archers are shielded behind barriers, their frontline warriors blessed with void-bound defenses and buffs, and their steeds propelled to impossible speeds by haste spells. The ground before them is laced with their sorcery, resembling a field sown with deadly mines and missiles of every element.


    Then my commander, Varon, dismounted and charged forth to confront the mercenary captain¡ªa great badger wielding a greataxe. With a pace that belied his size, the badger hurled a throwing axe toward Varon, but he raised his buckler just in time to deflect it. Varon swung his zweihander in a powerful arc, but the badger deftly parried. In retaliation, the badger struck Varon¡¯s silvered helm with the pommel of his weapon, stunning him where he stood.


    As the badger readied to deliver a mighty blow with his greataxe, I loosed another Sniper Shot through a sliver of an opening in the wards and into the crease at his groin. Letting out a wail, the badger was momentarily distracted by the pain shooting through his body, allowing Varon to step forward and cleave the badger¡¯s head from his shoulders with a Holy Strike. A boisterous cheer went out to our men upon the slaying of the enemy commander, while a rebuke went out in my soul. Taunts were exchanged with the enemy mercenaries, now without a head to guide them.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    With the Ironclad Company¡¯s leader fallen, morale plummeted, and panic spread among the remaining enemy ranks. This turmoil intensified as two mercenary mages, sensing the tide turning, employed escape spells to flee the battlefield. The last remaining mage, a Halfrin woman specializing in ice magic, was then forced to face Hadrelian and Drudus¡ªtwo level 8 Mages. Missiles of magic and fiery meteors pummeled her from both sides. Unable to withstand such an onslaught, she was consumed by elemental fury, leaving her nothing but a pile of ashes.


    With her defeat, our leaders were free to unleash their magic upon the phalanx and bowmen holding the granary. The formation swiftly devolved into chaos. Many fled for the hills, while others sought refuge in the ambush set up on the pass leading to Kronfeldt.


    Though the mages could easily level the battlefield with bombastic displays of power, now was the time to harvest. The Eldrin commanders paid no heed to the fleeing enemy; they were focused on combing the area for the missing Chattel.


    Their support company would handle the cleanup of the remaining soldiers, and we were under strict orders not to harm any humans or potential unbound we encountered. The Eldrins had no interest in capturing lowly mercenary grunts; they wanted Chattel.


    As we dispatched the unfortunate few soldiers who still dared to fight, Hadrelian and his subordinates led the way into the hidden cellar of the granary. Inside, they discovered stairs descending into a concealed bunker that housed seven Chattel and four Beastkin civilians, all dragged out by force.


    Quickly, the Beastkin¡ªgnolls, frogs, rats, and boarmen¡ªindulged in their pleasures with the captured Beastwomen and Beastmen alike, leaving the Chattel untouched as ordered by their Eldrin commanders, until the conquered farmers and captured mercenaries were ultimately tossed onto the pyre.


    If only I could tear out my eyes and ears to escape such cruelty, but the collar around my neck prevented me from any self-harm.


    Why didn¡¯t I listen to you, Ashe? I should never have left Fairhope. I should have stayed, just like you said¡­ but I wanted to be a hero. I could only hope that Fairhope was still hidden, still unreaped.


    Though Hadrelian, the leader of the Red Scythe, was a powerful mage and swordsman, he could not enslave the Chattel. His younger brother, Drudus, however, was a Slavemaster. With the Chattel on their knees, shackled and held at swordpoint, they performed the ritual of binding. Two runners fetched the chest containing the collars, and Drudus opened the locked iron box, then proceeded to collar the Chattel.


    The first captive, a young woman barely out of her teens, was a vision of pale beauty with almost silvery hair. Tears streamed down her face as Drudus approached, a silver collar in hand. The collar resembled a metal headband, its ends gapped. Only the Master''s magic held it in place.


    If there was one thing the Eldrins did right, it was refraining from claiming the spoils of war for themselves. Their Emperor was many things, but a fool and sadist he was not. He understood that if Eldrins were to bed with Chattel, they would produce Malkrins, or the more commonly used term Halfrins, who had rights. Thus, he declared it a mortal sin to harm or bed Chattel under their ward. Eldrins could only strike Chattel in self-defense, but that was rarely an issue, as the collars made it impossible for them to harm a Master.


    With a flick of his wrist, a glowing card appeared before Drudus. As it touched the collar, a blue light pulsed through the silver, sealing the gap. The girl¡¯s crying ceased, and her expression shifted to one of livestock-like resignation. Though sadness and fear still lingered in her eyes, her Master ensured she would not voice her suffering to the world, so no sound escaped her lips, only the sadness and fear that was deep inside her head remained.


    The same scene unfolded five more times. Despite the repetition, the sight never grew easier to bear. I recalled the day I was captured, the memory bringing an agonizing pain that left me gasping for breath. Yet my body betrayed me, air filling my lungs every time I wished to suffocate myself with my torment. I wasn¡¯t allowed to die. I wasn¡¯t allowed to fight back. I was allowed merely to live and obey.


    Soon after the harvest, we looted the granary and the small settlement for whatever food we could salvage to resupply our small army. The goats would be slaughtered, dozens of them roasted on spits as our soldiers feasted, while the rest would come along to feed us on the march back to our base camp. As a Ranger, I was tasked with finding fresh meat for the commanders and returned with a deer, which I butchered myself before presenting it to one of the Chattel cooks.


    Varon interrupted my session of self-loathing and regret in the soldiers¡¯ camp. My Master was a devout follower of the Emperor¡¯s path, granting me considerable freedom and treating me kindly¡ªat least as kindly as one could treat someone in bondage, stripped of their free will. The Emperor taught them that Eldrins were never to harm or force themselves upon their wards. The only damage they inflicted on me was psychological: the torment of witnessing them do to others what had been done to me. The anguish of knowing I was killing people I rooted for. For I must not allow my Master to come to harm.


    ¡°Ranger. You speak an alien tongue, do you not?¡± Varon asked in Drakon, the language of Auriel, closely related to Lokan, the language of the Azure Reach.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I replied in Drakon. ¡°Aside from Drakon and Lokan, I speak English and Chinese.¡±


    Though I was born in San Francisco to an American woman of Dutch descent, my strict Chinese father¡ªwho never smiled a day in his life, much like his son¡ªensured I received thorough tutoring in Mandarin.


    ¡°We have a Chattel here who speaks English. We do not understand a word he is saying.¡±


    This couldn¡¯t be. Was he from Earth? I would have recognized him if he had come from Fairhope.


    My Master beckoned me to join him in the camp. Hadrelian sat regally at his commander¡¯s desk. Without his helm and armor, he wore a simple white silk robe patterned with gold thread at the collar. The robe accentuated his porcelain skin and long red hair with orange roots, giving the impression that his head was ablaze. But his orange, fruit-bat-like eyes added an imposing air to his handsome features.


    His brother stood beside him, a petulant expression on his face. Though they were similar in facial appearance, Drudus was shorter and leaner in build, his hair cut short instead of the long ponytail favored in Imperial fashion.


    The Chattel seated before them had long, technicolor-dyed dreadlocks tumbling from beneath his woolen cap. It wasn¡¯t until I was called forward to interpret for Hadrelian, the lantern light filling the commander¡¯s tent, that I noticed the teardrop tattoo etched beneath the man¡¯s eye. He didn¡¯t look like a native of this world¡ªor at least not like the descendants of the first-spawned humans who had been transported here before the holy wars. Something about him seemed too modern, though his fair skin, castizo or perhaps northern Mediterranean in hue, could have helped him blend with the locals. The tattoos and hair, however, were unmistakably modern, a mark of my world.


    It can¡¯t be. There are other settlements with people from the 21st century? God help us if the Eldrins get modern technology.


    ¡°This Chattel volunteers information to us, but we cannot decipher his alien words,¡± Drudus said imperiously.


    ¡°Ayoo¡­ you working with them Chinaman?¡± Though I was only half-Chinese, my features leaned more towards my father¡¯s side. The man before me lounged in his chair, legs sprawled casually as if he had made the Master¡¯s tent his home. Holding a paring knife, he twirled it absentmindedly. ¡°Yo, if these cats wanna capture humans and all that, I know a place that has plenty of them.¡±


    What¡­ why would he betray his people like this? When I was captured, I never volunteered such information. When they asked me where I came from, I spoke the truth and told them I was from Earth. Since the Masters didn¡¯t believe in harming their Chattel (at least not directly, as it was a sin decreed by the Emperor), they didn¡¯t press me for more.


    ¡°He says that¡­¡± I struggled to find a way to convey the truth without revealing too much. ¡°He wants to know if I¡¯m working with you.¡±


    ¡°In a way, you are, Tethered,¡± Hadrelian replied with a wan smile. ¡°Ask him where he comes from.¡±


    ¡°He asks where you come from, but why the fuck are you doing this?¡± I asked in English, my voice calm as I tried to sound polite in front of the Eldrins, who had no comprehension of my words. ¡°You¡¯re selling out your people? You don¡¯t have to answer their questions completely. They won¡¯t torture you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see how it is. You a sneaky little rat, ain¡¯t you? Sneaky sneaky little rat,¡± the man waggled his finger and then laughed like a hyena, clapping his hands. ¡°Yo, don¡¯t sweat it. I deal with a lot of no-speaka-English types in New York. I¡¯ll get them on my wavelength soon, cuz.¡±


    ¡°He says he¡¯s from New York. A place in another dimension,¡± I relayed to the Eldrins.


    ¡°Thornhill!¡± the man corrected me when he heard ¡°New York,¡± pointing at both of us in a gesture to bridge the language gap. He then gestured towards the west, his signs full of implication. ¡°Thornhill, cuz. I rep Thornhill.¡±


    Oh God. Wherever the unfortunate people of Thornhill are, I hope they flee.

 Chapter 60

    Chapter 60


    Orion


    Day 46, Day 6 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    The revelation hit me like a train: the humans of this world were devout followers of a faith dedicated to the Magebane¡ªa religion they called Erandorism, or the Church of the Liberator. In the dim confines of my inn room, I found the air thick with the scent of old wood and unspoken fears.


    Still drowsy and fighting a hangover, James lay back on the mattress to get another hour of sleep, lost in dreams and oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind. While he napped, I turned to the former slaves, determined to unravel the mystery of this unfamiliar religion.


    "What is the Magebane?" I asked Ulf, the weathered elder and former slave.


    ¡°He is the Great Emancipator,¡± Ulf declared, his voice rising with the conviction of a man who had staked his very soul on this belief. ¡°He will come to us, sent by the Void to shatter our chains and free us from the Masters.¡±


    ¡°Why do you call him the Magebane?¡± I pressed, striving to keep my voice even, concealing the panic that bubbled beneath the surface.


    ¡°Our collars are bound by the Void itself; thus, he is granted by the Void to redeem us. He is the bane of the mages who keep us chained.¡±


    I just didn¡¯t understand. I didn¡¯t understand why this had to happen. We needed to return to Thornhill; I had to witness it firsthand. My brother wasn¡¯t a savior; he was just a kid caught in a crappy situation. Why are you making him go through this? I don¡¯t understand!


    ¡°Master Orion, are you quite alright?¡± Wulfric¡¯s voice quivered. ¡°You seem¡­ angry with us.¡±


    With a deep exhalation, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to quiet the turmoil inside. I needed a clear mind to navigate this tangled web.


    The only path forward was to protect Cass. We needed to build Thornhill into an impenetrable fortress, with strong Holders guarding it. It would take years for us to be ready. We just didn¡¯t have time to prepare for them. They would find out about Thornhill, eventually. My mind flickered through scenarios of how we could survive.


    The door creaked open, and instinctively, I grasped the hilt of my dagger, reaching for my cat mask to shield my face from the world. Sophie emerged, her white fox mask glinting in the morning light, closely followed by Edith, another former slave. The two were bedmates in the room next door.


    ¡°Morning! How are my student-athletes faring today?¡± Sophie chirped, her cheer juxtaposing the weight of my thoughts. ¡°What¡¯s bothering you, Orion?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I replied curtly, donning my mask as I stepped into the day. Shopping awaited me¡ªor perhaps a plan to ascend to level 10. The world outside was full of possibilities, and I had little time to waste.


    ¡°I have a gig for you, Orion. How will you thank me for such a favor I wonder?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be busy today,¡± I replied, attempting to brush her off.


    ¡°You¡¯ll like it. I¡¯m heading to a dinner party. I boasted about having a master Cook slave to the sisters at the bordello, and they want me to provide some of the food.¡±


    ¡°Eh¡­ I think I¡¯ll avoid any bordellos for now. Thanks for the offer, though,¡± I said, stepping toward the door, but Sophie lingered on the threshold.


    ¡°Think carefully, Orion. The bordello has a fully equipped kitchen with plenty of expensive and rare ingredients,¡± she teased, a playful smile creeping across her face.


    With a sigh, I asked, ¡°When and what do I have to do?¡±


    ¡°Be at the bordello a few hours before dinner. I¡¯ll present Edith here as my cook while you handle the actual cooking. Wulfric and Ulf can assist you. I really need to make a good impression with these nobles,¡± she said, nonchalantly inspecting her fingernails as if she were discussing the weather.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can make it,¡± I replied, already feeling the pressure of obligation settle upon my shoulders.


    ¡°Orion, you need the levels. Thornhill needs this too,¡± Sophie struck at the heart of what I truly desired. She had a way of constantly dangling what people wanted and exploiting it to make them do as she wished.


    And for all that she was right, I hated dancing to her tune. I couldn¡¯t deny that I needed this to reach level 10.


    After leaving the inn, the next stop was the food stall. Slink, the former owner now managing McOrion¡¯s, was taking orders for fresh-ground meat, a box of onions at his feet. I sliced them into thin strands for the burgers and showed him how to make the secret sauce. Just then, Nax and Fleetpaw appeared, joined by another cat¡ªbrown-furred, a foot taller and a bit older than Fleetpaw¡ªwho quickly slipped into the flow of work. With Slink keeping the stall running, I turned my thoughts to the Guild districts, where a few necessary purchases awaited.


    Now, my coin purse stood at:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">5 First mints</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0">8 Second mints</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">41 Third mints</li>


    </ul>


    Venturing further into the heart of the city, just before the industrial district near the North Gates, various guild offices, shops, and smithies lay crafting the ore and supplies hauled in by ships or trade caravans. A weaver¡¯s shop was wedged between a leatherworker¡¯s den and a spinning house that served as an outlet for finished goods produced by both trades. The sign, written in Lokan script, faintly read The Rustic Thread, accompanied by a painted thread and needle.


    Inside, earth-toned garments were neatly piled in cubby holes like books, while tunics and trousers hung from long wooden racks, secured with bamboo clothing pins. The weaver¡¯s shop offered a modest selection of practical socks and gloves, unpretentious and sturdy. After a brief consideration, a lone leather boot¡ªdark as midnight and crafted from sturdy elkskin¡ªcaught the eye, along with a coarse hemp travel bag. The total came to about twenty Third mints.


    The shopkeeper¡ªa shrew with fur slightly darker than the jeweler who¡¯d bought my gems¡ªbore a striking resemblance to him. I held back from asking if they were related, not wanting to offend. Perhaps sensing my hesitation on the purchase, the shopkeeper suggested paying with two Seconds instead of multiple Thirds, but the thought gave me pause. Seconds had been climbing in value lately; rumor had it they were now worth nearly twelve Thirds each.


    What was interesting about the clothes was that none of them had affixes. They were all just plain clothes, with no extra buffs. When I asked the shopkeeper if they carried anything with special qualities, he responded enthusiastically, as if letting me in on a secret.


    ¡°Well¡­ I do have one item that might interest you,¡± said the shopkeeper. ¡°I must warn you, though, it¡¯s quite pricey.¡±


    The shrew led me to a wooden mannequin¡ªa showpiece displayed in its own spotlighted section at the back. Carved in the shape of a beastkin cat, it was draped in a black cloak that flowed from its shoulders like silken hair, woven as if from the shade of a moonlit waterfall.


    Cloak of Shadow - C


    In darkness, you are harder to detect by both magic and the physical eye.


    It would pair perfectly with my Shadow Walk, making me nearly invisible¡ªeven to magical scrying. I needed it.


    ¡°How much?¡± I asked, trying to contain my excitement.


    ¡°I can part with it for¡­ seven Firsts,¡± the shrew replied.


    ¡°I¡¯ve only got five.¡±


    Trading in some Seconds would technically bring me close to six Firsts, but that still left a gap and nothing left over for other needs.


    "Seven is as low as I can go," he said, shaking his head. "This cloak¡¯s one of a kind."


    With a resigned sigh, I knew I¡¯d have to approach Sophie for the funds.


    After gathering the last of my purchases, I made my way to the Crafter¡¯s shop just a block down. The air was thick with the scent of sawdust and iron. Inside, a brown frog was hunched over in one corner, tinkering with a bear trap device. His nimble fingers danced among a chaotic array of gears and scrap metal, while the rhythmic clink of tools punctuated the quiet.


    Nearby, a gray fox worked diligently at a vice, shaping wood with precise movements. A stack of carpenter¡¯s tables stood in disarray, cluttered with half-finished projects and tools that gleamed dully under the soft light filtering through the dusty windows.


    I approached the fox and placed an order for a guitar. The price was four Second mints. He nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, as he explained that it would be ready by tomorrow. The body and strings, originally crafted for a lute, had been set aside for a bard who failed to deliver payment. Modifying them into a guitar would be a simple task for his skilled hands, and I could almost see the melody waiting to be born from the wood.


    With that settled, I returned to the food stall, diving into the lunch rush alongside Slink and the others, hoping to inch closer to level 10 in my Cook class. The line had thinned since my last shift, but soon picked up, keeping me busy well past noon.


    Two hours later, I headed to the bordello, gearing up for the dinner event Sophie had orchestrated. As I climbed the hills toward the posh district, where elegant stone buildings reached for the sky, I stepped through the grand wooden doors adorned with a flowering lotus carved into the keystone. Inside was a plush and well-lit room, where purple carpets lay over ebony hardwood floors, and the sunlight poured in through iron-framed windows.


    In the main lobby, guests draped in fine silks and sparkling jewelry mingled, wine glasses filled with clear liquid held delicately in their hands. Two boar guards stood like sentinels, and a pig with strawberry curls in a black corset greeted me.


    ¡°Welcome to the Silk Rose. Unfortunately, today is a reservation-only event. Unless you have a recommendation, we are unable to serve unreserved guests,¡± the pig said with a touch of condescension.


    ¡°Oh¡­ it¡¯s Clark,¡± an unfamiliar voice interjected. ¡°Please, he¡¯s my guest. Part of the cooks I brought to the party.¡±


    The figure who stepped forward wore Sophie¡¯s white fox mask, but her voice was different, her Lokan perfectly unaccented. I played along, knowing Sophie had likely set up a decoy.


    ¡°Follow me, Clark,¡± the faux White Fox instructed her voice a smooth veil over the clamor of the bustling lobby of the bordello.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    She guided me through a finely carved wooden door into a kitchen that rivaled the grandest of halls. The cool granite tiles beneath my feet contrasted with the heat emanating from the array of fire pits at the center. Enormous pots simmered with rich, fragrant stocks, while geese and rabbits rotated slowly on spits, their savory aroma enveloping me. Flatbreads bubbled and browned on thick, black iron griddles. At the far end stood five stone hearth ovens, their glowing fires casting flickering shadows. To my right, a narrow stairway descended, leading to a well-stocked pantry and a wine cellar that promised hidden treasures.


    I quickly realized I was not alone. Three other teams of chefs labored alongside me, each vying to showcase their culinary prowess to the wealthy patrons currently mingling in the hall. I still struggled to acclimate to the sight of other Humans in slave collars, some of them working under the direction of Beastkin chefs, their expressions blank as they engaged in mindless preparation. I forced myself to look away; I couldn¡¯t solve every problem in this town.


    In a nearby section, Sophie¡ªnow adorned in a bunny mask¡ªwas deep in conversation with the three former slaves who had their own designated area. The White Fox led me to their side and announced, ¡°Lois, another one of your workers has arrived. If you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ll return to mingling with the guests.¡±


    Sophie stepped closer to her decoy wearing the White Fox mask, her voice low as she whispered, ¡°In public, you shouldn¡¯t treat me with such deference. I work for you, remember?¡±


    With a playful bow, Sophie added sheepishly, ¡°As you wish, Master White Fox.¡±


    ¡°Drawing that much attention already, huh?¡± I quipped, switching to English.


    ¡°You don¡¯t anger the banks and lenders of this town without inviting a few daggers to your back,¡± Sophie sighed, her eyes scanning the room. ¡°Anyway, the other teams have taken most of the good ingredients. Truffles, saffron, caviar¡ªall the giant lobsters and abalone. You are late, mister.¡±


    She tapped my chest with a teasing finger, like a teacher lecturing a student.


    ¡°Does it really matter?¡± I asked, moving toward the cellar to see what remained.


    ¡°Yes, it does. This is a mini potluck, if you will, where the hosts will each serve an offering to our thirty distinguished guests. It¡¯s a matter of pride that your servant excels in culinary skill.¡±


    ¡°Again¡­ does it matter?¡± I countered, grabbing some wild mushrooms. I spotted a tenderloin I initially thought was beef, only to discover it was venison, which Sophie¡¯s helpers eagerly carried over to our station.


    To my surprise, the pantry featured an aquarium filled with fish and shellfish, where helpers balanced on stools, reaching in with nets to catch the wriggling creatures. With a swift, practiced motion, they stunned them with a sharp thwack from the back of their cleavers.


    Among the pantry¡¯s treasures, I discovered a cellar door leading to an icehouse stocked with rare ingredients. Puff pastry caught my eye, and I quickly added it to my collection.


    ¡°The White Fox has a reputation to uphold. If you can impress them, I can attract more business, and the elites of this town will want to be part of the White Fox¡¯s network,¡± Sophie continued.


    ¡°So you¡¯re going to profit from this?¡± I asked, grabbing some ham and eggs from the cellar.


    ¡°As always,¡± Sophie replied proudly.


    ¡°Pay me two Firsts,¡± I said, my gaze steady on her.


    ¡°You¡¯re helping Thornhill, and¡­ please, this job isn¡¯t worth two Firsts.¡± Sophie crossed her arms, her resolve as firm as iron.


    ¡°Sophie,¡± I said, keeping my tone calm. I didn¡¯t want this to turn into a drawn-out argument. ¡°I really need those two Firsts.¡±


    She sighed, shaking her head with a knowing smirk. ¡°Mister Cook, aren¡¯t you always going on about Lee Kuan Yew at council meetings? And what¡¯s his number one rule? No corruption. We can¡¯t dip into town funds just because we want a shiny new toy.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re not using any for yourself?¡± I scoffed.


    ¡°Bianca and I have a deal. I get a tiny widdle commission on what we earn, but other than essentials like food and accommodations, I haven¡¯t spent a single coin on myself. You don¡¯t think I¡¯d love a new quarterstaff or fancy silks and perfume? Every First, including the one I earn myself, has to go toward what the town needs. So ask yourself, Orion¡ªcan you handle this on your own, or do you really need it?¡± Sophie tapped her chin as if taking in my seriousness.


    ¡°I~¡± but she interrupted me before I could make my case. Getting coin from her was harder than getting it from under the belly of a sleeping dragon.


    ¡°We have to set an example, Orion. No frivolous spending. Even if it¡¯s something we think we need, we have to be sure. Think about Thornhill. How many blankets and socks can one First buy, compared to a single new toy? How many villagers¡¯ lives can improve if we refrain from buying ourselves the best of the best?¡±


    I hated it when she used this compassion argument; it always felt so hollow coming from her. But now she had me second-guessing if I really needed it. She was right¡ªI¡¯d keep finding excuses to upgrade my gear if I kept shopping, each piece pricier than the last, and I''d never be satisfied with what I had. Maybe I couldn¡¯t keep leaning on Sophie and the town¡¯s money.


    ¡°I guess not,¡± I said, shrugging as I got back to work. I¡¯ll figure out how to earn those Firsts on my own.


    At the large griddle over open flames, five tenderloins sizzled, each developing a perfect crust before being set aside. Nearby, a rich duxelle simmered in a massive pot, chopped mushrooms stirred down to the ideal, velvety consistency. As it cooled, the earthy, buttery aroma of mushrooms mingled with the scent of seared meat, drifting through the air like seasoned partners in a dance, promising something memorable for the dinner to come.


    Wulfric and Edith, my diligent helpers, were busy laying out slices of ham neatly on the granite countertop. With care, I spread the cooled duxelle over the ham, ensuring an even coating. Then, I slathered a generous amount of mustard over the tenderloins. Together, we rolled the tenderloins into logs wrapped tightly in the ham and duxelles. Once the rolls were formed, we placed them in the ice house to chill and set.


    While the tenderloins rested, I prepared a medley of roasted vegetables, using vibrant root varieties in shades of purple, orange, and green that contrasted beautifully with the fine white china. For the sauce, I selected a red wine with deep notes of blackberry and wood¡ªa bottle I¡¯d chosen from the cellar for its rich, sweet flavor¡ªto reduce into a silky, dark glaze that would pair perfectly with the meat.


    After the rolls of tenderloin were chilled and set, we rolled them in puff pastry, coated them in egg wash, and fired them in the oven. My Firewielder skill eased the fire, so it cooked at a steady temperature.


    This is a recipe I¡¯ve watched countless times from a certain angry British chef, but I¡¯ve never tried it myself¡ªmainly because of the sky-high price of tenderloin. But with my class ability assisting me, I was mastering it. Naturally, the cook would get the first taste. Quality control, of course.


    Venison Wellington - B


    Haute Cuisine - Grants an aura of command that boosts the speed and strength of those around you


    It was almost service time and the Silk Rose¡¯s servants came to the plating area with several fine porcelain plates for us to plate our dishes for the guests above. I cut an inch of tenderloin before crowning them on vibrant roast vegetables, drizzled some red wine sauce in some fine dining modernist way, and topped it with green herbs and edible flowers to accent the dish¡¯s colors.


    While others served family-style or on banquet trays, I chose individual plating. One team presented a massive, crispy roast pork, sliced and accompanied by silver gravy boats brimming with sauces and chutneys. Four workers were needed to carry it to the dining area. Another team laid out a cornucopia of seafood¡ªred-shelled lobsters, crabs, smoked fish, and buttered crostinis¡ªa spread that looked like it had been harvested straight from Neptune¡¯s table. The final server showcased a dazzling fruit tray, adorned with tiny cakes, pear tartlets, and melons carved to resemble flowers, creating a vibrant, garden-like display of sweets.


    Sophie had left us in the middle of prep work to mingle with people and check on her fake stand-in, giving her instructions while the rest of us stayed behind.


    With my cooking for the bordello¡¯s gathering complete, I left the kitchens and entered the lobby, intending to see what other stories from Earth James had been sharing with the kids in the entertainment district. Even from the lobby, I could hear the commotion from the waiting rooms, converted into dining areas for tonight¡¯s guests. The food had been a tremendous hit, and a warm tingle stirred inside me, signaling that I¡¯d leveled up.


    When I pulled out my Cook class card, the 9 that was there changed into a 10, and my world shifted and I was transported to meet my fate and deal with my hand.


    In the cosmic realm, I found myself seated at a stark table, surrounded by an endless void that pulsed with a faint, ethereal light. Across from me sat the dealer, shrouded in shadow, his gaze piercing through the darkness. The Dealer drew a single card and placed it in front of me.


    The Battle Chef Path


    Requirements


    Chef or Cook class ?


    Soul Food 1/1 ?


    Knife¡¯s Edge 1/1 ?


    Health Inspector 1/1 ?


    Path of the Dagger 4/3 ?


    Throwing Weapons 4/3 ?


    A bolt of light flew past me on the right. When it struck the cosmic void, it illuminated a group of stars that highlighted a new constellation that resembled a skull with a chef¡¯s hat.


    ¡°You have taken an unusual path,¡± The Dealer croaked.


    He presented me with a new foil booster. Unlike the old one, it glittered gold and had a shimmering S on the front.


    Battle Chef Booster Pack


    I unwrapped it to reveal three cards. Two of them disintegrated since I did not meet their requirements, leaving only one card: a doozy.


    Dungeon Gourmand - S


    Must sacrifice your Health Inspector skill. All food you cook no longer damages you, including dungeon meat. From now on, any dungeon meat you consume will provide a permanent skill card. You can only slot 6 Food Skill cards at once. Any additional cards will require you to either discard the new skill or replace an old one.


    On the table, my Health Inspector disappeared into blue wisps and I slotted my Dungeon Gourmand skill. My hands were trembling. I felt excited, almost to the point of exhaustion.


    ¡°The cards have been dealt. Until we meet again, fellow holder,¡± the Dealer said, and I was back on the streets of Kronfeldt.


    After I met with the dealer, I navigated the sprawling, bustling streets, finally escaping the uptown districts where the nobles lived in their gilded cages. My destination was the entertainment district, a vibrant area buzzing with lights and laughter, where creativity flourished in every corner.


    Curious about the play James was involved in tonight, I wandered over to the performance. There, the puppet master and James were captivating the audience with their unique rendition of Seven Samurai, using a wide assortment of cleverly chosen animals to represent the legendary warriors. The crowd was enchanted, their laughter and cheers filling the air, momentarily distracting me from my own troubles.


    At the intermission, I left the show to check on my stand. I had hoped to find Slink, anticipating that he might have some coin for me to purchase the cloak I had been eyeing. Instead, I returned to find him in a pitiful state, cradling a bloodied nose and a broken tooth, his left eye swollen shut and bruised, tears marking his dirt-streaked face. The sight twisted my stomach with a mix of anger and concern.


    ¡°What happened to you?¡± I asked, my voice low, barely able to contain my shock.


    His voice trembled as he replied, ¡°Hadrelian¡¯s lackeys. I tried to pay him off, but they took everything instead. They said they¡¯d be back tomorrow, too.¡± Slink¡¯s sobs echoed in the alley, a haunting reminder of the ruthless world we navigated, where survival often came at a brutal price.


    ¡°What do they look like?¡±


    ¡°Two frogs, one purple and one red. A boar.¡± Slink answered.


    ¡°Where can I find them?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous Master Clark. You best stay away from them. We¡¯ll just pay their protection fee from now on.¡± Slink sniffled and wiped his bloodied nose with a rag.


    ¡°WHERE!¡± I snapped the bitter frustration that had simmered throughout the day suddenly erupting like a shaken bottle of champagne.


    ¡°T-they usually hang out at the docks. There¡¯s a tavern there called the Hog¡¯s Hollow. I think they have a hideout maybe, I¡¯m not sure. Just rumors.¡± Slink was stammering. ¡°Please Master Clark, it¡¯s not worth it. Just a few coins.¡±


    Just a few coins? Exactly what I needed to get my cloak.

 Chapter 61

    Chapter 61


    Sophie


    Day 46, Day 6 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    Achieving business success involves more than just making deals and fundamental economics; it hinges on the ability to develop connections. The true barrier to entry is resilience: facing rejection, knowing how to network, and projecting that you belong in the world of power. It¡¯s a game of masks; the second you falter, show doubt, or appear out of place, you¡¯re out of the circle. Sales is about confidence.


    Before her assignment, I armed my stand-in with these essential tips, and now, with my advice fresh in her mind, she joined me in The Silk Lotus, to mingle with Kronfeldt''s elite. My stand-in, Sable, posing as the White Fox, was my newest employee. She chatted away with sweet ol'' Sweethoof, the youngest of the three pig sisters and one of the owners of the Silk Lotus, an opulent bordello in town. We sipped the latest obsession among the nobility, the New York tea blend, as I quietly whispered advice to my decoy. I had recently closed a deal with Sweethoof and her sisters: a hefty bag of Anika¡¯s infamous drug tea to the Silk Lotus in exchange for coin but more importantly, friendship with the bordello owners including an invite to this exclusive dinner party event.


    You¡¯d think these pig sisters had found the Fountain of Youth, judging by how they fought over the tea. But not me; I was sticking to my mineral water. Gotta keep a clear head.


    Now, let¡¯s talk about my newest employee, the White Fox herself. I headhunted her right out of the banking guilds, a scrappy female red fox who was underappreciated and underpaid by her company. She reminded me of my younger self¡ªeager to impress and prove herself. Sable, my newest recruit, was practically drooling over the salary I offered¡ªa modest sum, really, but with the right words she signed the contract faster than you can say ¡°poach¡±. As for the NDAs and no-compete clauses, I loaded into her contract with my skill, she barely blinked.


    After recruiting Sable and before arriving at the Silk Lotus, I had controlled most of the Second mints in Kronfeldt, and it was time to make my move. After adjusting their value, I shifted the Seconds back to the Mining Guilds, securing stakes in mining futures and mineral rights¡ªiron, silver, and gold¡ªall through the East India Trading Company. These Seconds then flooded the market, finding their way into the hands of the initial investors who held the original rights and sold them, thinking they¡¯d gained a solid return in Seconds.


    Next, I signed contracts to grab most of the mining equipment from the local Blacksmiths and placed several orders for more mining equipment.


    Then, the pi¨¨ce de r¨¦sistance: I melted down some of my prized Thirds, acquiring them from my Seconds at a handsome exchange rate. Soon, the three biggest mines in Kronfeldt would buzz with excitement¡ªa mini gold rush sparked by my strategic nudges. And of course, I had James working his glamor. A rat, a cat, and a moleman¡ªeach with strikingly similar features and fur colors¡ªstrutted into every tavern and dockside haunt, spinning tales of gold-filled mines. It wasn¡¯t just James spreading the word; my gold, discreetly planted in those mines by my contracted agents, lent the stories an air of credibility. Before long, eager traders and merchants wouldn¡¯t be able to resist the lure. They¡¯d spread the rumors throughout the realm on every ship and caravan that left the city, and soon the floodgates would open. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, would swarm into the city, chasing after the riches I had planted in their minds.


    And those prospectors arriving in the coming weeks? They¡¯d need mountains of equipment and capital for their gold rush¡ªlodgings, tools, and, most importantly, loans. Enter the White Fox Exchange and Loans, ready to lend a hand to all the dreamers eager to strike it rich. Meanwhile, the East India Trading Company would be cashing in on the equipment sales and eventually uncovering something big within the mountain.


    For there to be such significant investment in these mines, a person with a class must have prospected the geology of this land. There must be valuable minerals yet to be discovered, considering the number of workers drawn here, but so far, only iron has been found. While the East India Company rakes in profits from shipping the minerals worldwide, a portion of that bounty flows discreetly into Hanseatic Limited¡ªa shadowy little company I had set up that would ship goods back to Thornhill.


    My class level was climbing rapidly with all these transactions. I felt like I¡¯d been stuck between levels 3 and 4 forever in Thornhill, but now I was racing past level 7. On top of that, my Espionage level had reached 2, and I was eager to boost it even further, so I sat next to my stand-in, eavesdropping on the local gossip while I reflected on my day¡¯s work.


    ¡°Oh, did I show you my new teapot?¡± Sweethoof exclaimed, proudly showcasing it to the ¡°White Fox¡±. ¡°One of my runners won it in Gachapon. My sisters are sooo jealous!¡±


    She laughed, cradling the teapot like a treasure as she poured herself another cup.


    The White Fox tapped her chin. ¡°Oh, dear¡­ you must have one of the earlier versions of those Bianca teapots.¡±


    Sweethoof¡¯s expression shifted to concern. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    The teapot was lovely, handcrafted by Bianca herself, but it was only a D-rank¡ªnot as high as a C-rank like Orion¡¯s or several others in my portable wagon.


    ¡°Look closely at the lines on the ¡®B¡¯ underneath the pot,¡± I explained. ¡°They¡¯re less pronounced¡ªone of her earlier signatures from when she was still a lower-level potter. It¡¯s a nice piece, but see how the liquid pours? The flow is unsteady, breaking too easily. Watch this.¡± The White Fox took my C-tier teapot and demonstrated, pouring effortlessly from the spout. The water streamed smoothly into her cup, even as she lifted it higher, the flow resembling a delicate ribbon of silk.


    ¡°Incredible¡­ you must tell me how you acquired this,¡± Sweethoof said, her eyes wide with admiration.


    ¡°Alas, I was lucky enough to win an S-tier prize from the Gachapon. It''s the only way, really,¡± the White Fox sighed. ¡°I must have spent over a thousand Seconds rolling just to get one.¡±


    ¡°I must have it. I must have it!¡± Sweethoof whined, sounding like a spoiled child who was used to getting her way. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink. ¡°You can¡¯t tell my sisters that I have¡­ an inferior one. Please!¡±


    Just then, a dozen mini conversations in the bordello¡¯s waiting room were interrupted by the serving of dinner. The head staff would always announce who was sponsoring the meal and the dish before it was served. As the newcomers, we were up first.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°This meal has been presented to you by the gracious Miss White Fox,¡± announced the head butler, a black-furred boar with graying patches in his hair, dressed in elegant black noble vestments. His words prompted a round of applause as my stand-in nodded graciously to the guests. ¡°The dish is called Deer Wellington¡ªa foreign delicacy.¡±


    Before us lay an enormous banquet table adorned with plates of the dish: a ring of pink tenderloin encased in golden puff pastry, drizzled with red wine sauce, and nestled on a bed of vibrant roasted vegetables. It looked like something straight out of a Michelin-star restaurant.


    The nobles gathered, their curiosity piqued by the striking presentation of Orion¡¯s creation. While other meals flaunted lavish abundance¡ªcornucopias of roasted meats drenched in sauces¡ªOrion¡¯s dish presented a masterclass in restraint. Complex in technique yet minimalist in style, it radiated a confidence that declared ¡°less is more.¡± Each element was perfectly cooked and elegantly arranged, demanding attention even in its simplicity. A ruby-red swirl drew the eye to a medallion of pink meat encased in golden pastry, resting on a medley of purple, green, and brown vegetables that looked like autumn leaves. For the nobles of Kronfeldt, it gave them a glimpse of the future of culinary art.


    The most common complaint was that the portions were too small, which seemed to ruin the entire evening as guests were whisked away to a culinary wonderland only to crash back to reality when confronted with what felt mundane compared to Orion''s masterpiece.


    ¡°White Fox,¡± Sweethoof, stammered, ¡°I will give you anything you want for the Chattel that made this dish. How much? Name your price.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not for sale,¡± the White Fox declared about Edith, who¡ªif we¡¯re being fair¡ªwas taking all the credit for Orion¡¯s work. ¡°At any price.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but a recipe, at least! Surely you have one,¡± Sweethoof pressed, an odd glint in her eye. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you 2 Firsts for just one recipe. I must have more, please!¡±


    I leaned close to the White Fox, my voice barely a whisper, ¡°Tell her I¡¯ll think about it tomorrow¡ªbut it¡¯s 4 Firsts, non-negotiable.¡± With a raised brow, the White Fox repeated my offer.


    Orion had been fretting about coins just an hour previous. Now, here was a chance for him to get some on his own. There was no need to rely on his sugar mama coaxing open the town¡¯s treasury.


    The White Fox and I had already made our introductions to most of the important players in Kronfeldt. But one family I¡¯d taken great care to sidestep: the mayor and his kin. They were Halfrins, a rare breed of what looked like half-elves. Farther south across the continent, Halfrins gave way to Beastkins, but still in the Azure Reach, Halfrins reigned supreme, especially in the North. The Queen herself was Halfrin, as were her dukes and mayors, all related or descended to her.


    This was delicate work, and the White Fox needed to make the right first impression. I¡¯d told her to bide her time before dealing with the mayor¡ªdirect contact would come soon enough. The man had an aristocratic air about him: long, sharp features, pointed ears, and a refined severity. His marble-gray skin and dull orange eyes only added to his statuesque presence, framed by slick black hair just beginning to gray.


    Even though I wanted to avoid him, I couldn¡¯t resist lurking within earshot of the mayor¡¯s conversation with Silktail, the last and oldest of the Bordello owners¡¯ pig sister trio.


    Indeed. Duke Aelric¡¯s health keeps him resting most days. And our Queen¡ªshe¡¯s spending most of her defense coffers on the coast guard in Havenreach. Not a coin spared for the mines here, not a shred of recognition for our worth,¡± Mayor Kaelan murmured, frustration evident in his voice.


    ¡°And meanwhile, Aelric¡¯s council busies itself filling the war chests for the impending ducal succession,¡± Silktail scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. ¡°And our taxes, Mayor Kaelan, let us speak plainly¡ªthey are naught but a grievous waste. Those mercenaries you¡¯ve employed? Hardly worth the Thirds you squander on them. My husband¡¯s wine caravans have faced ambush far too often.¡±


    ¡°Until the old Duke finally departs this world, I can scarcely do more with the meager resources at my disposal,¡± the mayor lamented, his voice heavy with regret. ¡°I must prioritize the Duke¡¯s care; his daughter lacks the years to manage such burdens alone. And raising taxes in a remote backwater like this? It just keeps people from settling here.¡±


    Silktail raised an unimpressed eyebrow. ¡°This land is brimming with rich, untapped volcanic soil¡ªprime for investment and ripe for harvest. Why don¡¯t you Halfrins see that with just a bit of foresight and two well-chosen B-tier mercenary companies to keep the raiders and troglodytes at bay, we could double or even triple our farming output?¡±


    The mayor gave an apologetic bow, using the opportunity to slip away and engage a different noble in conversation. My business here was done. I caught the White Fox¡¯s eye and gestured for us to leave. We rounded up our crew in the kitchen and then headed to the entertainment district to prepare for the Gachapon event. In the dark alley, I switched out my bunny mask for a boar mask, shed my coat to reveal a flight attendant uniform, and ran through the show once more.


    This time, luck was on one of our customers'' side¡ªa particularly thrilled customer walked away with an S-tier Teapot. Our town purse was overflowing, to the point that an accountant was almost necessary to track it all.


    Exhausted, I returned to the inn and booked a tiny room for Edith and me. After a quick bath, I checked in on Orion¡¯s room. He wasn¡¯t there, but James was, sprawled across his bed in a drunken haze, with Wulfric and Ulf asleep on the floor.


    The next morning, I took Wulfric, Ulf, and Edith over to the East India Trading Company to get them started organizing the warehouse. I paid them two Thirds a day, though they were unsure how to use the coin and would only spend it if I ordered them to¡ªwhich sort of defeats the purpose. They unloaded my portable wagon, stacking tea and medicinal supplies neatly on the shelves. I¡¯d also arranged for teamsters to transport ingots from the smelters to our warehouse, ready for delivery across the realm. Wulfric, a former slave, was now in charge of ensuring these reached the Hanseatic Limited, Thornhill¡¯s personal connection in the town.


    Looking ahead, I wanted to establish a proper trade route back to Thornhill. To make that happen, I headed to the Builder¡¯s Guild to contract the Steady Hammers¡ªa group that had recently lost a big job to their rivals, the Copper Nails, and were now taking on smaller projects. Discretion was key, so we put the East India Trading Company¡¯s name on all the paperwork to secure a road and trading post about half a day north of Thornhill¡ªnot too close to attract people to Thornhill but near enough to keep it connected.


    In the Builder¡¯s Guild, men hauled ladders, wood, and bricks to neatly stacked stockpiles, while others pored over blueprints and maps under makeshift tents in the sandy yard. At the main desk, a mole man in a bronze, bicycle-shaped helmet sorted scrolls with swift, clawed hands. He examined the contract I¡¯d placed before him alongside a map of Kronfeldt¡¯s outskirts. A red string marked the proposed road stretching south to Thornhill, ending at a carved horse figurine representing the trade post I wanted to be built.


    ¡°There¡¯s not much down that way but raiders and trogs,¡± the Steady Hammers¡¯ guild rep said, looking at the contract with a puzzled expression.


    ¡°I''m just the messenger for the White Fox. She assures me that land is ripe with resources, and the East India Company is planning farms and furrier operations.¡±


    ¡°As long as you¡¯ve got the coin, we¡¯ll get it done.¡±


    ¡°Just remember our confidentiality agreement,¡± I replied smoothly. ¡°The East India Trading Company doesn¡¯t want competitors sniffing around. I want all your employees to sign confidentiality agreements.¡±


    ¡°Aye, the Steady Hammers keep to our word,¡± he replied, signing off on the contract. ¡°Road construction starts tomorrow, with the trade depot soon after. Might take a few months, but it¡¯ll be solid. The Steady Hammers will nail it down for ye.¡±


    And so, the first steps were set in motion to open a trade route between Thornhill and Kronfeldt. This was a bridge not just of goods, but of influence, built one stone and one coin at a time.

 Chapter 62

    Chapter 62


    Orion


    Day 47, Day 7 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    The Hog¡¯s Hollow buzzed with a rough crowd, a shadowed tavern where less-than-reputable souls mingled. A rabbit barmaid wove through the throngs of rowdy men, her cheer tested by a band of ottermen in blue sailor outfits at the bar. Tension crackled like flint, and fights erupted at the slightest provocation. Fresh from grueling shifts, hard dock workers and miners filled the air with raucous songs echoing their daily struggles.


    In a dim corner, my targets sat across the room, laughter bubbling from their lips and tankards of ale in hand¡ªpaid with gold pilfered from my stand.


    Three figures held my attention: two frogs in striking hues: a towering purple one, muscled and imposing, and a smaller red one, a crossbow resting casually by his side. A boar clad in leather armor completed the trio, a cudgel on the table next to a steaming bowl of curried fish chowder, his back turned to me.


    With my hood pulled low, I pretended to sip from a mug of ale while watching them closely. Hours slipped by before they finally stood to leave, and I trailed them through the side door.


    JD circled the trio from high above as they staggered drunkenly down alleys that twisted between dockside shanties. Their uneven steps echoed against the creaking wood of the pier. Homeless souls huddled beneath looming cranes, wrapped in tattered hemp tarps, finding warmth in shared misery. The scents of salt air and decay clung to the night, a heavy blanket that muffled my quarry''s raucous laughter as it faded into darkness.


    I melted into the shadows, avoiding the main street where lamplights flickered softly against the cobblestones. I kept a cautious distance, letting them slip from sight before picking them up again with my Tracking skill. The trio ventured into a woodshed nestled behind a weathered stone wall belonging to a rendering plant. A latch clicked, and two of them descended a ladder into the depths below, leaving the purple frog lingering outside as he urinated against the wall.


    Moving with Stealth and Shadow Walk, I glided forward, pressing the tip of my stiletto into his back, drawing blood but stopping short of a fatal wound. He stiffened, his stream faltering before it erupted in a final, uncontrolled release.


    ¡°Listen carefully,¡± I whispered, showing him my Flamewielder card and flashing it near his face. ¡°I have an ability that can tell when you lie. If you speak anything but the truth, my knife will dig deeper into your back. Nod if you understand.¡±


    The dagger pressed a bit further, making him flinch and push against the wall. He nodded vigorously, his bare legs trembling as his trousers slipped down to the ground, soaking into the wet earth.


    ¡°Speak softly now, or my knife gets restless. How many men are down in that hatch?¡±


    ¡°T-two guards, and then beyond the first gate... at least t-thirty men. Haven¡¯t been back to the hideout since morning¡ªthere could be more,¡± he whispered urgently. ¡°Listen, I... I just joined up recently, alright? I¡¯m not with ¡¯em. Just needed some coin.¡±


    ¡°Is a man named Hadrelian down there?¡±


    ¡°Hadrelian and his lot? Nah, they¡¯re out of town. I was hired by an Eldrin named Ovidus¡ªhe might be down there,¡± he stuttered, glancing nervously toward the hatch.


    ¡°What are you guys, some kind of thieves¡¯ guild? Organized crime?¡±


    ¡°Nah, mate. The Red Scythe are crusaders. Ya don¡¯t know?¡±


    Crusaders? I didn¡¯t like the sound of that.


    ¡°What does that mean? Speak like I¡¯ve been living under a rock my whole life.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re reapers. They reap the harvest. Huntin¡¯ for free Chattel, bringin¡¯ ¡¯em back to Auriel,¡± the frog stuttered, his voice trembling.


    Those words sent a chill through my spine. I had to stay focused; time was running out, and someone would spot us soon enough. His friends below might even come back up the hatch.


    ¡°Listen carefully. You¡¯re going to follow me, and we¡¯ll continue this chat somewhere more private. Understand? Any impulse to run or scream, and you die.¡± I dragged him forward as he hastily pulled up his sopped trousers.


    With my knife guiding him, we made our way to an open drain pipe leading into the sewers. The tunnel opened into a dim chamber, barely lit. I tossed aside his holstered knife, then grabbed a piece of rope from my pack to bind his hands, turning him against a rusty metal grate. Thick air hung with rot; silence was broken only by the scurrying of rats and the flow of sewage.


    ¡°Why doesn¡¯t anyone stop these raiders?¡± I asked, steady as I reached down and took his sack of gold coins.


    ¡°They do¡­ t-the mayor hire mercenaries to handle ¡¯em, but most of the C-tier and B-tier companies are stuck on the coast or near the capital. We bribe the guards to leave us alone in town,¡± he stammered, his body shaking as my stiletto hovered close to his eye.


    ¡°How do they find Chattel?¡±


    ¡°Wherever Chattel go, they leave a mark. They build villages, help farms grow. Look, I could get you in with the Red Scythe¡ªit¡¯s a lucrative gig. A knave like you could rake in some serious coin.¡± Desperation glinted in his eyes, a last-ditch effort to bargain for his life.


    "Any rumors of¡­ Chattel villages? Recently?"


    "They were planning to raid a small farm southeast of here. Just a small job, but rumor has it at least four Chattel were hiding there."


    Southeast. It wasn¡¯t Thornhill.


    "Any other whispers?"


    "Look, I¡¯m new here, alright? They only told me because they didn¡¯t need more recruits for that job."


    His screams echoed in the sewers as I sliced off a sliver of his pinky.


    "I told you no lies. You say you¡¯re new, but why are you trusted with the collection money?" I said, holding the bag of ill-gotten gains in his face.


    "Ain''t no lie," he whimpered, voice trembling. "I joined a couple months back. The others were even greener. They made me head of collecting protection money after the last crew got killed in a scuffle."


    I needed someone on the inside, but he wouldn''t make a good spy. I couldn¡¯t trust him.


    "Who¡¯s the strongest Red Scythe around? What¡¯s his class? Level?"


    "You think they''d share that? Only a fool gives away his level and class¡ªor someone with a lousy c-class," he chuckled nervously.


    "Who do you report to?"


    "Ovidus. He¡¯s Hadrelian¡¯s man here. Supplies Hadrelian¡¯s caravan with people and goods."


    Using brute force and extortion on local businesses, most likely.


    I could track down Ovidus and interrogate him. However, what I needed was intel on these Red Scythe and their movements.


    The man knelt before me, shivering in the grime, bound tightly by ropes around his wrists and ankles. There was a flicker of regret in me before it vanished, replaced by the cold knowledge of what needed to be done. I undid his ropes and turned him to face me. He met my gaze, desperation mixed with a faint hope as I reached into my pocket. The weight of a Second fell into his palm. He clutched the coin, his lips forming a trembling smile as though I might spare him.


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    Leaving him alive would be stupid. I can''t risk it.


    Like the many animals I had to slaughter to survive, this was no different. It had to be quick. Before he could process it, my knife pierced his heart, his face frozen in surprise and betrayal before going blank. I pried the Second from his slackening fingers and slipped it back into my pocket, then rifled through his purse: two Firsts, five Seconds, and thirteen Thirds.


    Staring at the frog¡¯s lifeless form, my breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as reality settled in. An unarmed man, compliant and even pleading. He hadn¡¯t tried to defend himself or fight back. Each time, it was getting harder to excuse my actions, but I clung to the need for it like a buoy in a storm¡ªwithout it, I¡¯d drown.


    He wasn¡¯t innocent, I reminded myself, nausea twisting in my gut. I couldn¡¯t leave him alive to report back to his crew. For now, I needed to stay in the shadows.


    After removing his ropes, I left swiftly, the damp stone walls and the stench of decay clinging to me as I vanished into the night, dumping the dead body in the murky water where it was devoured by the rats.


    The night wore on as I watched the hatch, chewing dried meat and letting the hours pass. Ahead, the hideout¡¯s entrance lay hidden in shadow. I didn¡¯t move in; the ladder would make me a target, a sitting duck for anyone below with a sword or crossbow ready. I waited, my senses sharp, eyes fixed on the latch.


    Eventually, two figures emerged, swaggering with the heavy weight of drink. One was a broad-shouldered brute with a piggish face; the other, wiry with slick red skin, peered around with bulging yellow eyes.


    "Where the hell is he?" the boar growled. "He''s got our coin."


    "Little bastard probably bolted with the pouch," spat the other frog, his tone sharp with malice. "Or he¡¯s off tryin¡¯ to buy himself a girl somewhere. Bossman¡¯ll skin us if he don¡¯t get his cut."


    "Dealer¡¯s tits. People keep dropping like flies either falling over dead or running away. Ovidus¡¯ll want ten more for the next raid, easy," the brute muttered. ¡°Spread the word¡ªTjok-Lok¡¯s dead if he doesn¡¯t turn up. You go search the Hollow and I''ll search the docks."


    I weighed my options, watching as they split¡ªone heading toward Hog¡¯s Hollow, the other to the docks. Slipping through the shadows, I could take one or both out wiihout much fuss. But I¡¯d already left too many bodies. If I kept this up, they¡¯d start piecing it together¡ªa ghost hunting them down, one by one. I didn¡¯t need that kind of heat. What I needed was to blend in, and find out about this raid without drawing attention.


    Every collector sent to shake down the food stall with the angry chef just happening to end up dead? Not a good look.


    Leaving the streets, I dragged myself back to the inn, dead tired. When I got in, James was sprawled on his bed, fast asleep. I slipped into mine, hoping to grab a few hours myself. By morning, daylight was spilling into the room. I found James downstairs, tearing into his breakfast¡ªeggs, crusty bread, rashers¡ªcompletely lost in his own world.


    Lowering my voice, I pulled him aside. "Jim, do you know who the Red Scythe and Hadrelian are?"


    He paused mid-bite, bread still in hand, brow raised in genuine confusion. "Red Scythe? No clue. What''s this about?"


    "We¡¯re not here to play puppet shows and flip burgers, Jim. We need to know the dangers around us, the threats in Thornhill¡¯s shadow."


    The sharpness in my tone hit harder than I¡¯d meant; he swallowed, his gaze sobering as he set his bread aside. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll ask around about the Red Scythe,¡± he said, his tone more serious. ¡°As for Hadrelian¡­ pretty sure I heard that name down at the Hog¡¯s Hollow. Some bloke was saying he¡¯s after rough types for less reputable work.¡±


    "Then that''s our angle." I looked at him directly. "Try working for him. We need to know what they¡¯re up to."


    James paled. ¡°Orion, you realize I¡¯d make a terrible spy? I¡¯ve got about as much subtlety as a marching band. If anything goes sideways, they¡¯ll see right through me¡ªand I¡¯m not exactly built for ¡®questioning,¡¯ if you get what I mean.¡±


    "I¡¯d go myself, but I lack the skin-changing skill you have. They¡¯d want to see under my mask as soon as I join," I held his gaze, resolute. "You''ve got the chops, Jim. I saw you in the puppet show. You can do this."


    He fumbled for an excuse but found none, sighing in resignation. "Fine. But if this goes south and I end up in a slave collar, you¡¯d better be ready to bust me out.¡±


    "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll keep an eye on you through JD. Signal, and I¡¯ll find a way to get you out. For now, I have a few stops to make. I¡¯ll check in with Sophie after." I handed him a piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil. "Take notes¡ªwhatever you can."


    My first stop was the food stall, where I handed Slink a few coins to keep his stand afloat, securing a reliable source of supplies. Then, I headed to the Crafter¡¯s Guild to pick up the modified lute before making my way to The Rustic Thread.


    The Cloak of Shadow was worth every coin¡ªsix Firsts and eight Seconds, a good deal considering the rate was nine Seconds to a First last time I checked. The cloak''s velvet texture slipped over my shoulders, ending just above my knees. It had a plush fur lining for warmth, while the sleek, waterproof outer layer balanced elegance and practicality.


    Fitted and ready, I continued down the main street to the White Fox Exchange and Loans. The newly furnished building stood out, polished wood and glass glinting in the sunlight. Inside, a white fox was in calm conversation with an aristocrat, while teamsters, massive badgers, maneuvered a massive iron chest into the backroom, muscles straining under its weight. Two identical chests stood nearby ready for the third to be placed between them. A blacksmith paused his work on a thick iron door to watch them secure the chest.


    A broad-shouldered boar guard stood by a stairway leading down¡ªlikely where the real White Fox was working.


    ¡°I need to see Lois,¡± I said in Lokan, looking up at the boar guard.


    He furrowed his brow, struggling to shape his words in English. ¡°Wot¡­ are¡­ de biggest¡­ teem in basu¡­ ball?¡±


    I hesitated, then said, ¡°The New York Yankees.¡± Sophie and I were from New York, so it felt like the safest answer, even though my knowledge of baseball wasn''t great¡ªit might have been a team from Chicago or Los Angeles.


    The guard grunted, waving me through after a moment.


    Inside, a woman, I suspect Edith, in a cat mask, sat on the edge of a desk, her hands clasped, posture casual but alert. Behind her, a woman in a rabbit mask scrawled on parchment, candlelight flickering across her steady hand. An old man, I suspect Ulf, in a cat mask before her was organizing her shelves with parchments and books.


    Ignoring the woman in the cat mask, I focused on the rabbit. ¡°Sophie,¡± I said, stepping forward. ¡°I need to stash this guitar in your wagon. And we need to start planning our trip back to Thornhill¡ªsoon.¡±


    ¡°Just leave it here. I¡¯ll put it away when I have time,¡± she replied without looking up, her voice oddly flat and almost robotic¡ªnothing like the chirpy, bright tone she usually puts on. It made me wonder if this was her true voice.


    ¡°What are you packing for Thornhill?¡±


    ¡°Ingots, paper, ink, glass bottles for Anika, clothing, socks, lots of hemp, blankets, yada yada yada,¡± she listed, licking her fingers to grab another sheet of parchment.


    ¡°Can you make sure you pack crossbows, bows, arrows, and bolts?¡±


    She paused. ¡°Something going on?¡±


    ¡°I have a bad feeling.¡±


    Her voice dropped. ¡°I can slip in a few weapons and ammunition, but bulk buys of arms will draw too much attention. We¡¯ll have to use the ingots and let the blacksmiths back at Thornhill make the rest.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Sophie¡­ You... got a lot done, huh?¡±


    She let out a sigh before turning on her usual bright voice. ¡°Naturally. Need anything else? A kiss? Maybe a little afternoon delight? I could always send Edith and Ulf on a¡ªdon¡¯t you dare leave without saying goodbye! That¡¯s just rude!¡±


    Leaving the guitar with her, I pulled up my hood and stepped back outside to shop for ingredients. The rain had started to fall¡ªlight but steady. JD, my jackdaw, swooped down to land on my shoulder as I approached the vendor stalls. I scanned the offerings laid out by the vendors, searching for pieces that would provide the buffs I needed. I passed over the usual dead sparrows and pigeons hung upside down on hooks until I spotted some goose offal and swift carcasses.


    After picking up a few supplies, I returned to my stall. Slink was cooking burgers at a steady pace, the white bandages wrapped around his face contrasting with his skin. The rain had thinned the usual crowd, giving the workers a brief respite. Nax nodded at me from his usual spot, and Fleetpaw flicked his tail in greeting, but I kept my focus on my task.


    I butchered the meat, carefully separating the swift¡¯s meat from the bones. I glazed the goose heart in honey and fish sauce, the glaze balancing its richness. I seasoned the swift¡¯s breast lightly, threading both onto skewers with diced onions before placing them over the coals. The smell of roasting meat danced with the rain¡¯s dampness.


    Goose Heart and Swift Breast Kabob - D


    Migration of the Goose - Stamina recovery increased by 20% for 3 hours.


    Flight of the Swift - Air movement speed increased by 20% for 3 hours.


    JD, sensing the dish¡¯s effect, snatched up a finished skewer as his ¡°delivery fee.¡± After eating, I saw his wings stretching and fluttering¡ªa good sign. "Soul Food" worked as a buff for both of us, so I checked my Familiar: Jackdaw card, where the Migration of the Goose and Flight of the Swift cards now appeared alongside it.


    If things went south, JD would need these buffs to return to Thornhill and alert Bianca. I spent the next hour refining the kabob to increase the effect. I was ready when I achieved a C-tier version, extending the buffs to six hours.


    With no word from James, I slipped into the town¡¯s alleys, keeping an eye out for any sign of the Red Scythe and a message from my spy in their company.

 Chapter 63

    Chapter 63


    James


    Day 47, Day 7 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    How did I get dragged into this? I was a simple translator-turned-farmer, and now here I am, playing double agent in a ring of slavers.


    At that moment, I was nursing a drink at the Hog¡¯s Hollow, chatting with an otter about joining Hadrelian¡¯s men. They were desperate enough to take on fresh faces; their numbers had dwindled, and gangs prowled the docks, looking for recruits¡ªmen hard enough to pillage, loot, and hold their own. Disguised as a boarman to fit the look of a battle-hardened rogue, I gripped my cutlass as they marched the twenty of us to their hideout: a nondescript shed with an iron latch in the industrial district, where the air stank from the rendering plants.


    As I climbed down a slick ladder, two guards waited below¡ªa gnoll and a boarman in bronze armor, spears at the ready. They stood watch by an iron-barred door that opened to stone tunnels winding into the hideout. Alcoves lined the walls, holding sleeping rolls, some occupied by gang members snoring away. A gnoll led us through the labyrinth. His fur was grey, streaked with black, and his hair styled into a faux hawk.


    Gang members lounging in the hideout turned to watch our procession, some tossing discarded bones or half-eaten fruit at us, others catcalling. ¡°Good luck at the tryouts, new blood!¡± one jeered.


    ¡°Tryouts?¡± I muttered to our guide, trying to mask my unease.


    ¡°Aye, tryouts,¡± he smirked. ¡°You think they¡¯d take just any scrapper off the docks?¡±


    We soon reached a winding passage that descended deeper into the town¡¯s underbelly. The air was damp and heavy, pressing down as we entered a broad, circular chamber, its ceiling shrouded in mist and dripping with moisture. At the centre was a pit, four metres deep, with a stone pipe jutting a metre high, capped by a rusted grate where water trickled down.


    Before I could protest, we were shoved forward, tumbling down into the pit. I landed on my feet, the impact was jarring but manageable. Around us, Red Scythe members leaned over the edge, shouting and placing bets on who would survive.


    ¡°Welcome to the illustrious company of the Red Scythe,¡± came a voice from the far side of the pit. A man with dark orange hair like dawn¡¯s first light and eerie, amber eyes introduced himself as Ovidus, Third Captain of the Red Scythe. He spoke Lokan with an accent that softened its usual harsh edge.


    The betting quieted as Ovidus drew a glowing blue card from his palm. He tapped it, and wisps of light coalesced atop the pit¡¯s walls, forming four black panthers with glowing blue eyes and fangs glinting like embers. Their guttural growls echoed through the chamber.


    ¡°Endure until the spell fades, and you shall prove yourselves worthy,¡± Ovidus declared, raising his hands. ¡°Endure! Endure! Endure!¡±


    Heart pounding, I lunged forward, ducking and weaving through the other huddled recruits. The stragglers would be picked off first¡ªthat was just how predators worked. Blending into the pack was a survival trick, something every prey knew in its bones. And with my sorry excuse for combat skills, I was every bit the prey.


    Three frog sailors stepped forward, hefting their clubs and pitchforks to face the panthers. But the moment those feline shadows closed in, the sailors¡¯ courage shattered. They scattered, bodies flung wide like billiard balls breaking from a fresh strike. They didn¡¯t get far. Men clambered up to the ledge only to find themselves short. The panthers leapt, claws wrapping around their legs, jaws snapping around necks.


    I edged toward the raised sewer pipe in the centre, keeping low, my eyes darting from one feral blur to the next. I hopped onto the grate, gripping my cutlass so tightly my fingers ached. My trembling knees gave out, dropping me onto the metal grate as I stared into the dark waters below. Chaos roared around me¡ªthe frantic clash of weapons and desperate yells mingling with the growls of the panthers. Three more recruits scrambled onto the grate beside me, and we huddled, forming a shaky ring, each of us watching a different angle. There was strength in numbers. If only I could find the voice to shout for us to group up.


    Bloody hell, why hadn¡¯t I spent more time in the practice dungeon? I should¡¯ve at least hit Path of the Sword Level 1 by now.


    The panthers went for those left exposed, tearing into anyone who hadn¡¯t reached the grate. Two frogmen were down, blood pooling beneath them, but one panther snarled and staggered as a trio of gnolls slashed at it with machetes and daggers. Beside me, a ratman with a crossbow aimed, squeezing the trigger at a panther already busy mauling a fallen frog.


    Then one of the beasts locked its gleaming yellow eyes on me, nostrils flaring like it could smell the fear in my sweat. It began circling, low and deadly, a hunter toying with its meal. I raised my cutlass high, trying to look bigger, meaner¡ªthough my knees were near giving out. All around, the pit was a mess of shouts and screams, metal clanging, bones snapping. The sound of slaughter.


    Only the gnoll trio put up any proper fight, flanking any panther that dared leave its back exposed while trying to swipe at the men camping at the top of the sewer pipe. The gnolls moved like a three-headed serpent, closing in on a separated panther. When the panther lunged our way, the trio swooped in, hacking and snarling, driving it back in a flash of fur and blood. Eight of us were still standing, and with only two cats left, a faint, fragile flicker of hope kindled.


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    The panther still stalking me pounced, muscles flexing to launch forward. I swung my cutlass wildly, the blade whistling through the air as we clashed. The circle around me tightened, bolts zipped from the ratman¡¯s crossbow, and swords flashed. Outmatched, the panther finally fell, though my arms ached from the struggle.


    Still no sign of the Path of the Sword card unlocking. Where was that blasted ability when I needed it?


    With my stalker dead, only one panther remained. It was cornered and desperate, arching its back, fur bristling, tail snapping like a live wire. Sensing its end, the eight of us closed in, steps cautious but closing tight. One grizzled gnoll got too bold, lunging forward¡ªand took a savage swipe across his side, stumbling back with a grunt, clutching his wound.


    The ratman seized the chance, firing a bolt that drove into the panther¡¯s eye. But that only fueled its fury. Vengeful and seizing the opportunity of the distracted cat, the gnolls hacked and slashed, carving the beast down until it lay still on the blood-soaked floor. Above, claps echoed from Ovidus, though murmurs from those watching suggested too many of us had survived.


    ¡°It seems we have a talented lot here for so many of you to pass the test,¡± Ovidus announced. ¡°The Divine Path has led you here. The Emperor smiles on you, as does the Void. Let us welcome our new brothers!¡±


    A cheer rose up, shouts of ¡°The Emperor is Just! All Roads Lead to the Divine Path!¡± filling the chamber.


    Well, looks like I¡¯ve gone and joined a bloody cult this time, haven¡¯t I?


    Our ¡°brothers¡± pulled us from the pit, and the celebration began, with casks of moonshine and watered wine flowing. For the mission¡¯s sake, I had to partake of the drink, though I kept it light. Some recruits even got Red Scythe tattoos to mark their initiation. A rough meal of cheese and tack was passed around, and I pocketed some cheese for later.


    Keep your wits about you, James. People are counting on you. And for heaven¡¯s sake, don¡¯t get pissed on the job.


    To punctuate the seriousness of my situation, I noticed two human men, likely late twenties, with Northern European features, shuffling along a nearby tunnel. Collared and subservient, they delivered food to Ovidus, seated in front of the bronze-plated gnoll recruiter with the faux hawk at a high table within the underground hideout.


    Feigning a drunken stagger, I edged closer and plopped down on a bench just outside their room to eavesdrop. My Espionage skill card hummed inside me, sharpening my senses as if by magic. I could suddenly pick up their hushed conversation, my raucous surroundings fading into a hazy mist that let me blend into the background like a fly on the wall.


    ¡°We need at least twenty more men if we''re to set out,¡± Ovidus said, dabbing his mouth with a silk napkin. ¡°Drudus has messaged me¡ªour next target is large. He wants at least 400 men for the raid.¡±


    ¡°Good help¡¯s scarce, milord,¡± the gnoll grumbled. ¡°Three of my men killed each other last week over a drunken spat and Tjok-Lok¡¯s nowhere to be found. We sent a team to Hadrelian only two months ago.¡±


    ¡°We lost half of them in a skirmish against the Ironclad Company.¡± Ovidus¡¯ mouth twisted into a grim smile. ¡°But we avenged them, rest assured. We¡¯ll need more than soldiers, though; blacksmiths, diggers, fletchers¡ªthe like.¡±


    ¡°When are we marching?¡± the gnoll asked, scratching the scruff of his neck.


    "They¡¯re still awaiting a shipment of fresh collars. Drudus tells me we¡¯ll march to rendezvous with Hadrelian¡¯s main force in twenty days, and from there, head southwest. There¡¯s a farm in that direction that may prove¡­ promising." Ovidus spoke lazily, spearing another hunk of meat. Meanwhile, I watched a collared human fetch more wine and cheese from the stores.


    Southwest? Oh, that¡¯s not good. That¡¯s really not good at all.


    ¡°I¡¯ll round up some workers,¡± the gnoll offered. ¡°Might be wise to ease up on the initiation, though. Send in only two cats this time.¡±


    ¡°We need latrine diggers and cooks, not just soldiers. Our first group of fifty will set off tomorrow, while I remain in Kronfeldt to recruit more men,¡± Ovidus declared, his tone sharp and imperious. ¡°With the Ironclad Company nursing its wounds, the Duke in his current state, and the Queen¡¯s mind occupied elsewhere, we mustn¡¯t let this opportunity slip through our fingers, Grimwall.¡±


    I downed the swill they called drink, feeling it hit my stomach like a bag of bricks. Before anyone noticed, I staggered off and found the pits, where I finally rid myself of the dreadful concoction. But I didn¡¯t have long to recover¡ªOvidus and Grimwall were already herding us down another dark, damp tunnel that twisted under the city like the belly of a beast.


    We surfaced at a hatch leading to a warehouse, where others were loading up wagons with crates and barrels. They¡¯d pegged us as teamsters, then. Brilliant.


    As the others sweated over crates, I slipped outside, claiming I had to relieve myself. A drizzle began, soaking the boar fur I wore as a disguise. I made my way behind a tree, doing what needed to be done, when I noticed a dark shape circling above in the grey clouds¡ªa bird, dark blue and unmistakably familiar.


    I edged away from the warehouse and waved my hands like a madman to signal him down. The bird dipped low and perched on the same tree, its sharp eyes watching me keenly. I glanced around to be sure no one was watching¡ªjust me, the bird, and somewhere beyond the clearing, the North Gate, and the iron mines.


    I pulled a scrap of parchment from my coat and scribbled my message.


    ¡°Raid@Thornhill.


    In 20/30 days


    Maybe 400/500 men


    Warehouse@ N.Ind dist¡±


    On the back, I scribbled:


    ¡°Don¡¯t try it.


    Leader strong.


    Many crossbows/wolves.¡±


    After strapping the note securely to JD¡¯s leg, I held out the stinking cheese I¡¯d pocketed earlier. JD eyed me with a mix of annoyance and resignation before snatching it up and gulping it down. With one last sidelong glance, he took flight, vanishing into the clouds. As I watched the bird disappear, I could only hope the message would help Orion figure out exactly how a village of a few wooden huts could defend itself against an army of 500.

 Chapter 64

    Chapter 63


    Orion


    Day 47, Day 7 on the Road


    Kronfeldt


    ¡°Raid@Thornhill.


    In 20/30 days


    Maybe 400/500 men


    Warehouse@ N.Ind dist¡±


    Five hundred men? How in the world could we defend against a force like that with only twenty days to prepare?


    After exchanging a flurry of messages with James, I finally had the complete picture. They were planning to send around fifty men, along with James, to a major camp hidden somewhere to the east, near Port Havenreach, where roughly three to four hundred men were waiting. Their intention was to march on Thornhill, which lay directly south¡ªmore like south-southwest. This gave us between 20 to 30 days to prepare for their arrival.


    There was little time I could sacrifice to anxiety. First, I had to send word back to Thornhill. They needed every precious day to ready their defenses. I wondered if I should go after the ones here at least. Could I manage to take on fifty men? Maybe, if I could pick them off one by one¡ªbut they¡¯d send every last soldier after me in the end. I couldn¡¯t waste time in Kronfeldt like that. But before I sent JD off, I needed to confirm it myself.


    Midday wasn¡¯t the ideal time for reconnaissance, but the rain and low visibility made it easier to blend in. I drew my cloak close and crept toward the northern district, slipping past the smelters, blacksmiths, charcoal burners, tanners, and renderers. The air lay thick with the stench of iron and smoke. Outside the North Gate, wagons trundled toward processing warehouses.


    In my mind¡¯s eye, JD circled above, marking the spot I highlighted. As he hovered near, the connection to his vision sharpened. Near the lake, a lone dock lay apart from the chief port, leading to a wooden warehouse. An unremarkable ship unloaded its goods onto carts, which gnolls and frogmen hauled toward the warehouse. Through JD¡¯s eyes, I saw wolves chained to key positions around the building and crossbowmen stationed at balcony windows and rooftops, their eyes keen for intruders.


    Inside the open double doors of the warehouse, wagons were filled with bags of grain, casks, and folded tents. Near the front, two town guards pocketed coins, turning a blind eye to the activity.


    A boar-faced creature with tiny nub tusks and brown fur, vaguely resembling James, struggled to tie down a load with rope. He wore a familiar pirate¡¯s cutlass at his side and muttered apologies as a gnoll supervisor berated him, forcing him to try again.


    As if sensing my intention, JD took off and returned to me, swooping down to land on my shoulder as I waited behind the walls of a smelter. I reached into my pack for the kebab I saved for JD¡ªa well-earned reward¡ªand then pulled out a piece of parchment and a pencil. Shielding the paper from the rain with my body and cloak, I pressed it against the rough wall and began writing my message. Once done, I secured the note on JD¡¯s leg.


    Then I turned to the newly improved kebabs, checking their buffs before we moved out again.


    Goose Heart, Muskrat Heart, and Swift Breast Kabob - C


    Migration of the Goose: Increases stamina recovery by 30% for 6 hours.


    Flight of the Swift: Boosts air movement speed by 30% for 6 hours.


    Hide of the Muskrat: Grants a brief shield against rain and water for 6 hours.


    ¡°Go to Bianca. You remember her,¡± I murmured to JD, focusing on an image of her and Thornhill in my mind. As the vision took shape, I shared it with him, sensing his mind latch onto the smokehouse by the beach. ¡°It¡¯s far, but this is important.¡±


    I held out the entire kabob as his reward. He tore into it, feathers ruffling with satisfaction.


    ¡°Don¡¯t wait for a reply. Just make sure Bianca gets the message, then come right back.¡±


    JD pecked at me in irritation, as if insulted by the simplicity of the instructions. He wasn¡¯t a fool, and he knew his way around a task. With a flap of his wings, he took off southwest, the new buffs lending him an extra burst of speed as he shot off into the rain-streaked sky.


    I stood there, considering my odds. Fifty-seven men. Twelve archers, seven wolves, one Eldrin whose abilities I still couldn¡¯t gauge. And James... He was there too. I couldn¡¯t let him get swept up in this, becoming a casualty in their crossfire. He needed to make it to the main raiding group and keep an eye on them. The thought settled over me like a shadow as I looked toward the horizon, feeling the weight of choices yet to be made.


    With a deep breath, I pulled out my Dungeon Gourmand card and studied it.


    The Dungeon Gourmand - S


    All food you cook no longer damages you, including Dungeon Meat. From now on, any Dungeon Meat will provide a permanent skill card. You can only slot 6 Food Skill cards at once. Any additional cards will require you to either discard the new skill or replace an old one.


    Maybe with six new skills, I could wipe them out.


    I made my way back to the Hog¡¯s Hollow, The mingled scents of stewed meat and stale ale wafted over me as I pushed through the door. Sliding one Third across the counter, enough to cover a meal and glass of water, I leaned toward the boarman bartender. His tusks caught the dim light as he polished a glass. ¡°Is there a dungeon around here?¡± I asked.


    He laughed, a low, rumbling sound, as if I''d asked something absurd. "Nay. You think they let any commoner into a dungeon?"


    The bartender kept chortling as I asked, "Where''s the nearest dungeon?"


    "The one in the Capital, beneath the Queen¡¯s fortress. Always guarded. The Queen¡¯s particular ¡®bout who gets in and out.¡± the bartender continued to wipe down his counter before serving another patron.


    No dungeon, then. That threw a wrench into my plans.


    I turned my attention to the meal, determined not to let it go to waste. The meat was tough and full of gristle, but I worked through it, washing down each bite with bitter water. When I¡¯d finished, I left, the weight of the remaining coins in my pocket urging me to spend carefully.


    With 4 Seconds and 39 Thirds left, I arrived at Maxby¡¯s. The shop was cluttered but well-stocked, and I picked out a portable bedroll¡ªsturdy, suitable for the road, costing me 1 Second. Then, a few hemp bags and bottles of cheap wine. After some bartering, I handed over 2 Seconds and 10 Thirds. Finally, I grabbed two jars of paint¡ªblue and brown¡ªpacked in clay for another 20 Thirds.


    With 5 Thirds left, I went to the farmer¡¯s market and bought all the tomato and onion seeds I could find. By the end, I had only 1 Second and 4 Thirds left. My coin pouch felt light, but I doubted I¡¯d need these coins back in Thornhill.


    My satchel full, I headed to the White Fox Exchange and Loans to find Sophie. Instead, her representative¡ªthe White Fox¡ªdirected me to Hanseatic Limited. I gave them the passcode, answering with ¡°New York Yankees.¡±


    The White Fox¡¯s directions drew me back to the dock by the Southern Gate, where memories of my first steps into the city still lingered. Near the Jewelry Store yet cut off from its brightness, the brick warehouse stood plain and unadorned, merging with the weathered stone of the city walls. Its narrow, barred windows offered no glimpse within, making it seem less a building than a silent fort at the edge of the waterfront. The port next to the warehouse was empty, its silence broken only by the gentle creak of a single rowboat tethered to the dock, swaying idly in the murky water.


    Outside, I found a lone guard¡ªa slightly overweight badger¡ªdozing on an iron bench, his snores filling the quiet. Inside, Sophie was unmasked, busy offloading tea bags and tea sets into the warehouse, with three former slaves assisting her. She was packing a portable wagon, its interior expanded to the size of a small apartment due to her increase in levels.


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


    Wulfric and Ulf lifted heavy ingots for her, which she placed into neatly lined bins. Sweat beaded on her face, and she sighed. ¡°I wish I could just hire someone to handle this, but unfortunately, they can¡¯t enter my space.¡±


    ¡°We need to get back to Thornhill as soon as possible,¡± I said in English, my voice tight. ¡°We¡¯re going to be under attack soon.¡±


    Sophie barely raised an eyebrow. ¡°Already?¡± she asked, almost casually. ¡°I spoke to the Mercenary Guild, but they¡¯ll need a month to arrange a contract with the Bronze Fists up north. The other guilds are either decimated or contracted by the Duke¡¯s heirs or the Mayor to defend this city and Port Havenreach.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we need to get back right away,¡± I pressed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go first thing tomorrow,¡± Sophie decided. ¡°I still need to set my affairs in order here.¡±


    ¡°Right away, Sophie,¡± I muttered. Even I could hear the petulance in my voice.


    ¡°Listen, mister, I can¡¯t just throw away everything I¡¯ve built over the last few days.¡± She gave me a sharp look. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be Mr. Long-Term? If you want this done faster, grab a crate and help load this wagon.¡± She gave me a weary smile as if watching me strain was a small pleasure.


    We spent the rest of the day packing the wagon¡ªiron ingots, rolls of parchment, linen, and bins filled with socks, trousers, and gloves. Two heavy crates of bolts and arrows clattered onto the floor before we lifted them in place, followed by ten crossbows and ten bows stacked neatly on the racks. Sophie, with a surprising ease, slid each bin into position along the rollers, her strength quiet but certain, a gift of her class, no doubt.


    ¡°Just ten crossbows and bows?¡± I asked, trying to hide my disappointment.


    ¡°It¡¯s as much as I could manage on such short notice without drawing attention. We have plenty of craftspeople back in Thornhill; they can make better weapons than these.¡± Sophie¡¯s tone was brisk. ¡°This gear is only for emergencies.¡±


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you and James finish whatever you need to tonight? Tomorrow, bright and early, we¡¯ll head back to Thornhill.¡±


    ¡°James isn¡¯t coming.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow, a trace of a pout forming. "Oh? And why does he get to stay behind while I¡¯m dragged back to the sticks?"


    "You have the Portable Wagon, Sophie. James is on a spy mission. We can¡¯t deliver these goods to Thornhill without you," I said, my tone firm.


    Sophie shrugged, a smirk playing at her lips. "Sometimes these classes feel like chains around our necks, don¡¯t they, Orion?"


    I didn¡¯t argue¡ªno sense in fighting the hand we¡¯d been dealt.


    "Alright," she continued, turning to the group. "Wulfric, Ulf, Edith¡ªyou¡¯ll head to the stables and get familiar with your mounts. Wulfric and Edith, you¡¯ll ride James¡¯s elk; Ulf, you¡¯re with Orion. My horse won¡¯t support both of you," she added with a playful glance. "If there¡¯s anything else you need to handle before we leave, now¡¯s the time."


    She turned to go, heading off to wrap up her business. The three former slaves looked at me expectantly, so I made my way back to my food stall.


    The evening brought a rush of diners as the rain finally let up, and a line gathered outside. After serving the former slaves hamburgers¡ªan unexpected delight that left them wide-eyed, marveling at the taste like it was a slice of the heaven they¡¯d dreamed of¡ªI said my farewells to Slink, Fleetpaw, and young Nax.


    Slink frowned. ¡°What should I do about Hadrelian¡¯s men?¡±


    ¡°Just pay them.¡± I handed him the last of my coins. ¡°Keep the place in shape while I¡¯m away. You won¡¯t need to pay me daily anymore.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s... generous, Lord Clark,¡± Slink said, a bit stunned.


    ¡°And where will you go, Lord Clark?¡± Nax piped up, his curiosity brightening his voice.


    ¡°Just some business near the outskirts. Look after yourself, Nax.¡± I ruffled his hair, thinking of the hardship he and Fleetpaw faced at home. One day, I¡¯d find a way to ease their troubles¡ªafter I¡¯d managed to fix my own.


    The four of us¡ªthe three former slaves and I¡ªmade our way through the damp streets to the Ironhoof Stables. There, we ran into a bit of trouble. Without Sophie¡¯s contract, the stablemaster refused to release the elk. He was a stern but gentle badgerman and, after a moment¡¯s thought, allowed us to feed the animals while we waited. I watched Wulfric approach Comet, the elk that James favored. My own mount had grown since I¡¯d last seen him¡ªhis coat shone, his hooves were scrubbed clean, and his eyes held a lively glint. The stablemaster had cared for him well. When I stepped closer, Rudolph nudged me with his muzzle, nostrils flaring as if to confirm it was truly me.


    An hour passed before Sophie arrived, the Contract at last in her hands. After setting things right with the stablemaster, we led the elk from their stalls. Wulfric, moving with a hint of uncertainty, began saddling Comet, James¡¯ mount.


    ¡°Do you know how to ride, Wulfric?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Horses, yes, but I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever ridden one like this, milord,¡± Wulfric admitted, glancing at Comet with a mix of respect and apprehension.


    Before I could respond, Edith climbed onto Comet¡¯s back, her arms wrapping around Wulfric¡¯s waist. Comet, docile, twisted his neck and shook his head as if trying to dislodge an annoying flea before slowly moving onward.


    Sophie let out a soft sigh, a hint of melancholy creeping into her voice. ¡°I wish there was a faster way to travel from city to city.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you excited? We¡¯re finally going back home,¡± I replied, though the shadow of danger looming ahead lingered in my mind. The thought of Thornhill, however, ignited a flicker of anticipation.


    ¡°Of course, but it¡¯s still a drag. We need to build a railway here someday.¡± Sophie mused, her eyes sparkling with the prospect.


    After an hour of getting Comet accustomed to the weight of Wulfric and Edith in the saddle, we finally returned him to the stable and made our way back to the inn. The day¡¯s events weighed heavily on me, and exhaustion tugged at my limbs. The moment my head hit the pillow, I surrendered to sleep, grateful for the brief reprieve it promised.


    In the morning, we returned to the stables and finally set out from the city: Ulf and I rode Rudolph, while Sophie took Olive, and Wulfric and Edith settled onto Comet.


    As we traveled southward, workers cleared the newly constructed roads, which stretched just a mile before giving way to dirt tracks once more. Approaching the outskirts of Kronfeldt, Sophie cast a long, wistful glance back at the town. She nudged Olive to catch up, her horse falling into step beside mine. Removing her mask, she flashed me a small, genuine smile.


    ¡°Be honest, Orion. You enjoyed our little vacation, didn¡¯t you?¡± Her voice was light but held an undercurrent of curiosity.


    ¡°Aside from constantly watching my back for slavers and pickpockets, it could have gone a lot worse.¡±


    Sophie¡¯s eyes sparkled with mischief. ¡°When this storm blows over, why don¡¯t we have an adventure? Travel the world and discover more strange places like this. We could build banks and McOrion''s on every corner.¡± Her words lingered in the air, tempting and soft.


    I felt my face flush at the intimacy of her suggestion. It almost sounded like a proposal, but I knew better. Sophie wasn¡¯t the settling type¡ªshe needed someone to watch her back, not someone to love. As I reflected on her behavior, it struck me how differently she treated James and me. She viewed James as one of her adoring fans, someone she likely had some contempt for, while I was just a pawn to be kept under her heel. The moment I acted the same or became inconvenient, I knew she¡¯d toss me aside. Or maybe it was all just a game to her; it¡¯s not like I had a great grasp of what women wanted.


    ¡°Thornhill¡¯s my home, Sophie. My brother¡¯s there, my friends¡­everyone¡¯s there. We need to protect them,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Thornhill will be fine,¡± she said, a hint of sadness in her tone. ¡°They¡¯ve got Alex and Cade, who are much stronger than you, and soon they¡¯ll have mercenaries guarding the outskirts with money earned from their exports. Our gold protects better than you riding off to fight armies alone.¡± She leaned in closer, her eyes searching mine. ¡°Be honest with me. What would you do if Cass wasn¡¯t there? No obligations, no ties. Haven¡¯t you ever wanted to do something for yourself?¡±


    Her question hung in the air, forcing me to confront the thoughts I often pushed aside. I opened my mouth to respond, but the weight of her attention made me hesitate.


    I shook my head, sighing. ¡°I don¡¯t care for hypotheticals. Cass is there. He¡¯s the only family I have left. Everything I care about is in Thornhill.¡±


    My look lingered on her, studying her before I continued.


    ¡°I know you want to travel the world, but isn¡¯t Thornhill your home, too? Aren¡¯t we important to you, Sophie?¡±


    For a fleeting moment, her expression faltered. I saw a hint of vulnerability beneath her usual confidence, but just as quickly, she waved it away. ¡°Thornhill¡¯s my home. I¡¯ll always need a place to plant my roots. But you know me¡­ I love to travel. I¡¯ll grow, and so will the village, if I connect with other places. I want to see everything this world has to offer.¡±


    Her eyes searched mine, revealing the conflict within her. She wanted to be free, to explore, yet a part of her seemed tethered to my safety. ¡°But still,¡± she added softly, ¡°I want you to do something.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± I asked, sensing the shift in her tone.


    ¡°Just be careful, Orion. I¡¯d hate to see you do something reckless, like taking on this army by yourself.¡±


    ¡°Since when have you been worried about my safety?¡± I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden concern.


    ¡°I know you''re strong, but the fortuneteller¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop right there,¡± I interrupted, my harshness sharper than intended.


    ¡°But Orion¡­¡± she pressed, her eyes pleading.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let some reading dictate my actions. It¡¯ll just cause me to doubt myself every time I have to act. Besides, I¡¯m always careful,¡± I insisted.


    She met my gaze, her expression softening. ¡°I just want you to be safe. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate it, but I can handle myself.¡±


    She slowed her elk to a canter while I pressed ahead, the silence between us heavy with all the words left unspoken. Despite riding toward the same destination, our mounts slowly drifted apart.

 Chapter 65

    Chapter 65


    Bianca


    Day 48


    Population of Thornhill - 52


    Dig, dig, dig. That¡¯s been my motto these past few days. Digging, building, and setting down those giant stone pipes. This sewage system¡ªoh boy, it was our boldest project yet. But with our Build skill and two magical golems¡ªone for crafting, one for quarrying¡ªwe were finally laying down the real foundation for a cleaner future.


    Every day, I¡¯d carve out at least an hour for bow practice and to work on clay pottery so my skills didn¡¯t get rusty. Then it was back underground to map out the tunnels beneath Thornhill. We¡¯d start with the main pipes beneath the main road, then dig out a reservoir to collect and filter the waste into gray water.


    We found a spot east of the village¡ªa little dip in the hills, backed by chalk and limestone ridges that¡¯d hopefully trap any smell before it drifted over. Crag, my quarry golem, could tackle the pit, while Slate, my all-purpose golem, shaped cement pipes from the limestone and chalk.


    The city planners¡ªBruce, our mason, and Marek, our all-around planner¡ªstarted marking the camp with sticks, measuring out the main pipeline routes and where branches would split off. Marek figured it¡¯d take months to finish it all.


    ¡°We need more people, Bianca.¡± Marek sipped his tea, looking over the rough plan we¡¯d sketched on tree bark with charcoal. ¡°There¡¯s more to build, yes? You want houses, warehouses, all this, all that. Too much. We need more hands.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can round up Alex, Cade, Aiden¡ªand maybe one of the blacksmiths¡ªto help out,¡± I said.


    ¡°Dungeon runts,¡± Marek frowned. ¡°Can¡¯t get them to stay still to do hard work for more than an hour.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to get them to pitch in.¡±


    Then there was the matter of upkeep. We needed more hands, more builders. Machines, tools, golems¡ªwhatever help we could muster. Slate and Crag were worth ten workers each, easy, but it still wasn¡¯t enough. Could I not have just a few more golems? A little more help to ease this weight?


    Amid all the building, one lingering issue loomed over us: a COVID outbreak. On my way to the church, where we were caring for the sick, I ran through a mental list of all that still needed doing. Some were calling it a "small problem"¡ªjust another item on our long list. But to me, it felt anything but minor. COVID had already infected four people: Larry and his wife Tiffany, Joycelyn the washerwoman, and even Father Gallagher himself.


    Father Gallagher had insisted that the church serve as a quarantine zone. Inside, they kept busy, working on candles or tanning leather¡ªsmall tasks, but they kept minds and hands occupied, and away from the others. Most of them were only mildly ill, though a few had deep, rattling coughs that sounded a bit too serious to ignore.


    I left them some food, tea, and herbs from Anika, which they took gratefully, though Larry couldn¡¯t help but grumble, insisting he was fine and ready to get back to work.


    Afterward, I planned to head to my bow practice. But just then, a loud, familiar caw echoed from above. I looked up¡ªand a raven¡ªor was it a crow?¡ªcircled me, the size of a bald eagle. The dark blue bird perched on a high branch with his wings spread as if saluting me. I vaguely remembered the bird following Orion.


    I could¡¯ve sworn it greeted me, then started pecking at its leg where a note was wrapped.


    "Hey¡­ birdie? Is¡­ that for me?"


    The bird gave me a sharp look, almost as if it were offended, then let out a caw that sounded impatient.


    I approached the bird with care, wary, as it felt like a wild animal, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements, and reached for the tied parcel. As I carefully unwrapped it, I found thick yellow parchment covered in scribbles on both sides.


    Build defenses


    Raid in 20day


    Ask Herm - Rye


    Prepare4War


    Brb 2-3 days


    Take care of Cass


    It¡¯s got to be a joke. It¡¯s a joke. No way. Not again.


    My knees wobbled as my stomach twisted, tightening with every ragged breath.


    What did he expect me to do? Drop everything, throw up defenses? How could we possibly manage it all? This couldn¡¯t be happening¡ªnot again.


    The weight pressed down on me, anchoring me to the ground. I really didn¡¯t want to go through all this again.


    ¡°Bianca, are you alright?¡± Cade¡¯s voice broke through the fog in my head, his hand steadying me. His eyes narrowed, concern etched across his face. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost.¡±


    ¡°Cade¡­¡± My throat felt tight, words scraping out. ¡°Get the council together. You, Sasha, Alex, and Herman as well.¡±


    Cade¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°He¡¯s out on the water, fishing,¡± he said, trying to make sense of it all.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Just get him,¡± I snapped, my voice sharper than I¡¯d meant. ¡°Tell him it¡¯s urgent. And hurry.¡±


    He nodded, his jaw clenched, and took off without another word. As Cade vanished from view, Orion¡¯s bird, perched nearby, fixed its sharp, black eyes on me. It seemed to confirm that I had received the message before launching itself into the sky, heading back north.


    The room spun again, a dull pounding gathering at my temples as I made my way to the mess hall. I focused on my breathing, trying to keep the panic from showing. Hold it together, I told myself. Just breathe.


    One by one, they arrived¡ªAnika, Ethan, Herman, Alex, Cade, and Sasha. The scrape of chairs against the stone floor sounded through the mess hall as they settled around the table, tension thickening the air between us. Herman came in last, leaning heavily on his walking stick, practically dragged in by Cade, who bore the brunt of his muttered complaints and irritation.


    ¡°This better be good,¡± he grumbled, easing himself down with a sigh, his bones creaking along with the wood beneath him.


    ¡°I got a note from Rye,¡± I managed, lifting the scrap of paper. ¡°We have twenty days to prepare for an attack on our village.¡±


    The message was passed around the circle, each pair of hands gripping it a little tighter than the last. When it reached Herman, he clenched it in his trembling hands, his knuckles clenched, the paper crumpling slightly under his grip. Silence rippled through the room, heavy and thick, each person processing the shock in their own way. Every face turned pale, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief. For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke. This was real. This was happening.


    ¡°He¡¯s joking, right?¡± Sasha¡¯s voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking louder would make it real. ¡°How did he even get that message to you?¡±


    ¡°Rye¡¯s bird brought it,¡± I said, swallowing hard. ¡°He must have found something out in Kronfeldt.¡±


    Herman scratched his beard, his eyes narrowed with thought. ¡°Orion isn¡¯t one to joke about things like this. If he says to build defenses, he¡¯s got a reason.¡±


    ¡°But how?¡± Ethan stammered, struggling to form the words. ¡°How do we build defenses?¡±


    ¡°We need a spot to fortify,¡± Herman said, pacing with a soldier¡¯s rhythm. ¡°Start with a wall. Palisades, ditches¡­ maybe towers. Set up a perimeter.¡±


    ¡°But the land¡¯s too open,¡± Anika pointed out. ¡°How can we cover it all?¡±


    Herman gave a short nod, already considering. ¡°We won¡¯t. Not everything. But if we dig a moat near the river and set Crag¡¯s team to quarrying stone for a wall on the opposite side, we¡¯ll create strong boundaries.¡±


    Herman pointed east. ¡°Those hills? Natural barrier. We close them off with smaller walls, make it harder for them to flank us.¡±


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


    Herman got up and wandered to the open doors of the mess hall, looking out onto the horizon and pointing with a walking stick.


    ¡°Gates. Chokepoints.¡± Herman¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Force them into tight spaces where we control the flow. Defend from above with bows.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s only twenty days,¡± Cade frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I don''t think we can build that many walls and make bows in such a short time.¡±


    Herman looked out over the rest of the council. ¡°We¡¯ll need every hand we¡¯ve got. But it¡¯s doable¡ªif we work smart.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, finding a flicker of confidence. ¡°We¡¯ll start on a bridge over the moat for the main gate. We¡¯ll hold off filling it with water till the last second. I¡¯ll get Crag carry stone blocks and place them next to each other to make us a wall. You guys can handle digging the moats.¡±


    Alex cleared his throat, a faint spark in his eyes that none of the rest of us shared. Out of all of us, he looked almost eager. ¡°What about weapons?¡± he asked, leaning forward. ¡°Arrows, bows¡ªanything we can use to fight back?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, voice firmer. ¡°We¡¯ll need a whole arsenal. And quickly.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t have everyone working on defenses,¡± Anika spoke up. ¡°People still need food and water.¡±


    ¡°Defenses take priority.¡± My voice cut through the murmurs. ¡°This is life or death. We¡¯ll set aside a few to keep making bread, catching fish, but everyone else will focus on fortifying. Those not strong enough to dig can help fletch arrows or manage the daily operations.¡±


    Anika¡¯s eyes held worry. ¡°And what do we tell everyone else?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll call a town meeting.¡± I turned to Cade, who looked like he was ready to charge into action, jaw set with determination. ¡°Go ring the bell three times,¡± I said. It was our signal for an emergency gathering at the town hall.


    The bells rung thrice. Soon, the entire village filled the hall, anxious and whispering. They looked to me, eyes wide with fear and questions. When the last few trickled in, I scanned the room, taking a quick count. Everyone was here.


    ¡°Kathy,¡± I called. ¡°The children don¡¯t need to hear this. Please take them back to their studies. I''ll talk to you later.¡± Kathy, a retired teacher who managed all the teaching and babysitting in town, nodded, her face pale with understanding. She gently guided the children out, shepherding them away like little ducklings. When they left the mess hall, I turned to face the others, their expectant expressions mirroring the dread I felt.


    I took a breath and let it out slowly, steadying myself. How could I even begin to deliver this? Open and transparent government, Bianca. They had to know. Rip off the band-aid.


    ¡°We¡¯ve received word from the trade expedition.¡± My voice carried to every corner of the room. ¡°In about twenty days, raiders will attack our village.¡±


    The hall erupted into a frantic wave of voices, each overlapping in a chorus of fear and frustration. People glanced wildly at one another, eyes wide, as if searching for some reassurance that no one could give.


    ¡°No, it can¡¯t be!¡±


    ¡°Why us, again? Why?¡±


    ¡°We should leave! Pack up and go!¡±


    The panic kept rising, bubbling like a volcano into a fever pitch.


    And then Ruth¡¯s voice, sharp and bitter, pierced through. ¡°It¡¯s that Orion¡¯s fault! He always drags trouble with him! What were they doing out there?! They were supposed to make peace, Bianca!¡±


    I raised my hands, trying to calm them, but the hysteria spread like a virulent disease, jumping from person to person. Finally, I had to shout, ¡°QUIET!¡±


    The shout pierced every eardrum through the hall, and one by one, their voices fell silent. I let the quiet hang a moment, holding their gazes.


    ¡°We are stronger than we were before,¡± I said calmly, steady but loud enough for all to hear. ¡°Many of us have grown stronger in the dungeon. We have Slate and Crag¡ªthey¡¯ll help us build walls and dig moats. But for this to work, we all need to pull together. Each of us has a role, and we¡¯re all going to have to rely on each other.¡±


    The crowd shifted, the fear giving way to something closer to unease as they listened.


    I scanned the room, meeting their eyes as I spoke, keeping my voice steady but not too forceful. ¡°Cade and Alex, you¡¯ll organize the diggers. Anyone with the strength to dig, start working on the moat. Marek and Bruce, you¡¯re with Crag on the wall construction. Anika, you¡¯ll keep everything running smoothly with logistics. Herman and Samar, food and water are yours¡ªfishing and farming are the only things that won¡¯t stop. If you¡¯re not digging or building, focus on traps, fetching water, or fletching arrows. Every hand counts.¡±


    I let my gaze settle on each of them, trying my best to smile warmly. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure Slate and Crag handle the heaviest work. We¡¯ll get this done¡ªtogether.¡±


    The villagers nodded, steeling themselves, some even standing a little taller, purpose driving out their fear.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got twenty days,¡± I said firmly. ¡°Let¡¯s make them count.¡±


    ¡°Bianca¡­ how many of them are there going to be? Why do they want to hurt us?¡± Gladys¡¯s voice trembled, and the room held its breath.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet.¡± The unease spread, murmurs breaking through the crowd. ¡°Orion and the others will bring us more details when they¡¯re back.¡±


    Cade and Alex stepped forward, resolute, representing the authority of my commands. Cade¡¯s voice sliced through the whispers, sharp and steady. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work. If we want to stay alive, it¡¯s time to start digging!¡±


    With those words, our leaders sprang into action. Like parts of a machine, they moved into place, purpose in their steps. Cade and Alex pulled the strongest with them, including Ethan, our doctor, whose jaw was set in determination. Marek and his builders broke away to the north, where Crag¡ªa massive presence even among the crew¡ªhad already begun heaving blocks of limestone into place for a wall that might hold back the storm.


    Herman gathered his fishers, though today there¡¯d be no nets in the water. Instead, Samar and Lu Yi turned back toward the fields, their work less visible, but no less vital. Anika¡¯s team, including the blacksmiths, scattered swiftly toward the warehouse to begin fletching arrows, sharpening spear points, and fashioning weapons from whatever spare wood and metal we had.


    I took a moment to take it all in¡ªthe rush, the purpose in every step. Then, I turned toward Molvin, our carpenter, and Slate, always close by. Together, we would work on the bridge at the main gate. A chokepoint. If all went to plan, that bridge would be the narrow funnel where we¡¯d make our stand. It would draw all the attackers there once it was inevitably destroyed.


    But when had anything ever gone to plan?


    In those first few days, Crag, my quarry golem, hauled stone blocks one by one, each thud like the heartbeat of our hope. Watching him, I couldn¡¯t help but think of the tales of the pyramids¡ªbackbreaking work, stone by stone, hour by hour. The wall took shape in precise rows of off-white limestone blocks, each one perfectly cut, massive, squared, and lined up seamlessly on top of and beside one another, like something I¡¯d arrange in a voxel video game. Though I wanted Crag to help dig, he couldn¡¯t do both¡ªbuild walls and carve trenches. So, the diggers would have to bear the brunt of the work on the trench, which would eventually connect to the river and form the moat around the white walls of Thornhill.


    In the warehouse, the air was thick with focus. Hands flew over arrows and spear shafts, while Jesus, our blacksmith, sweated over his forge, cranking out copper arrowheads as fast as he could while Bart was away working in the trenches. Meanwhile, my world narrowed to the wooden bridge, Slate and Molvin helping me clear trees and mill the planks. Once finished, the bridge would span the moat beneath, a final pathway over water when we connected it to the river.


    For two days, we worked tirelessly, making slow but steady progress. Each of us knew the stakes, having barely survived the last raid, and this time, we weren¡¯t caught off guard. We had time to prepare, and we made every minute count.


    Then, one afternoon as the late spring sun hung heavy in the sky, a figure appeared upriver. A black elk. Rudolph, nearly the size of a stallion now, galloped toward us. Work stopped, heads turned, and hearts lifted. As more figures crested the hill behind him, I squinted, and my pulse quickened.


    Orion¡¯s gaze swept over the trenches and the walls, a flash of pride lighting his eyes. I didn¡¯t think¡ªI just bolted forward, and as he dismounted, I flung myself into his arms, nearly knocking the breath out of him.


    ¡°Oh, Rye! You¡¯re back!¡± My voice was muffled against his chest.


    "Hey, it¡¯s good to see you." Orion grinned as he wrapped me in a quick hug, his arms strong and familiar. "You all have been busy."


    Before I could squeeze in a single question, the others were closing in, their curiosity blending with a simmering suspicion, buzzing around him like flies.


    ¡°What did you do, Orion? What did you do?¡±


    ¡°Why are we under attack?¡±


    ¡°Did they follow you here?¡±


    I stayed close, watching the worried faces around us. And that¡¯s when I saw him¡ªthe stranger who sat awkwardly on Rudolph, an old man with thin wisps of gray hair clinging to his bald scalp. He looked so fragile like he might shatter at the sound of a harsh word. He stared around him in a daze, eyes wide, as if he¡¯d stumbled into a five-star hotel instead of our muddy, half-built town.


    Behind him, two more riders came up the slope, their mounts exhausted, struggling in the ruts. Astrid hurried toward them, arms outstretched like she could steady them by sheer will alone. I noticed James¡¯ mount among them, bearing two flaxen-haired strangers slumped over, looking half-dead. Sophie rode solo, perched on Olive¡ªthe lone cow of Thornhill.


    ¡°Rye, who¡­ who are these people? And where¡¯s James?¡± I asked.


    Orion hesitated, shifting on his feet. ¡°James¡­ he¡¯s on a mission. These people¡ª¡± He shook his head, already worn down by the barrage of questions. ¡°Look, it¡¯s a long story. Can we sit down? Where¡¯s Cass?¡±


    As if summoned, Cass¡¯s voice cut through the clamor¡ªa shout from across the distant horizon. ¡°Rye!¡± I squinted, spotting him as a tiny dot sprinting toward us from Shelter 3. Orion waved him over, and Cass dashed closer, pure joy in his shouts as it came closer and closer.


    But then, something strange happened.


    The silver collar around the old man¡¯s neck¡ªthe one I hadn¡¯t even noticed until now¡ªbuzzed. The blue light flickered, and with a final dim glow, vanished. It slipped from the old man¡¯s neck and landed on the ground with a heavy clang, and the man froze, eyes locked on the thing like it held a dark magic. His face twisted in a mixture of wonder and fury as he grabbed the collar, trembling, his knuckles white around it. Then he flung it to the ground, his voice bursting out like a dam breaking.


    ¡°Erandor ti lado! Erandor ti lado!¡± He knelt, hands lifted toward the sky, his words escaping in sobbing breaths. Tears carved through the grime on his face as he chanted, his voice booming in zeal. ¡°ERANDOR TI LADO!¡±


    I watched, captivated, as the same thing happened with the other newcomers on Comet. Their collars slipped off too, tumbling onto the earth. They dropped to their knees, shaking, weeping, pressing their hands together in a strange reverence. "Erandor ti lado!" they called out, voices heavy with release.


    The Thornhill villagers looked on, shifting uneasily, muttering. All except for Orion, whose face was pale, eyes wide, mouth tense. A horror I couldn¡¯t place lay behind that look.


    ¡°Rye¡­¡± I murmured, leaning toward him, trying to catch his gaze. ¡°What are they saying?¡±


    His face went blank, almost uncomprehending, as he whispered shakily, ¡°Praise the Magebane.¡±

 Chapter 66

    Chapter 66


    Orion


    Day 51 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 55


    My fears were confirmed as I watched the chains fall from the three former slaves, the collars slipping from their necks like symbols of an old, crumbling order¡ªone that my younger brother would shatter. With her usual calm, Sophie revealed the truth to me: her Slave Cards, bearing her claim over Wulfric, Edith, and Ulf. As she pulled them, the cards¡ªtokens of their bondage¡ªdisintegrated into tiny blue wisps, drifting on the wind like dandelion seeds. They were irrelevant now, the collars powerless to enforce their hold, their sorcery nullified by Cass¡¯ Anti-Magic Field.


    The three of them¡ªno longer slaves, but the Emancipated¡ªcollapsed to their knees, their voices rising in unison. ¡°Praise the Magebane,¡± they chanted until they finished with, ¡°We have reached Sanctuary.¡±


    As much as I longed to address their newfound freedom and the religious and geopolitical implications of such an event, the impending raid demanded my more immediate attention. I motioned for them to rise. They glanced around, taking in the gathered onlookers, eyes wide with awe, as if Thornhill were the heaven they¡¯d prayed for all their lives.


    Later, when Bianca settled the crowd, the town¡¯s bell rang five times from our beaches, summoning the villagers to the mess hall. The room filled quickly, but a small group lingered on the edge¡ªfour of them, including the priest and an older couple dressed in finery, one of them the old crank who worked the warehouse. After dismissing the children, Bianca gestured for me to speak.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to be back,¡± I began, the fatigue still weighing on my mind and thighs. ¡°We learned much in Kronfeldt. And I see you''ve started on the defenses. Good. We¡¯re going to need them in fifteen days.¡±


    The silence broke with Samar¡¯s question. ¡°Where¡¯s James?¡±


    I raised a hand, steadying the room. ¡°James is undercover, gathering intel on the enemy. I¡¯ll send my bird for his message shortly. He¡¯ll keep us updated on the enemy¡¯s location.¡±


    A new voice, from the back cracked through the tension. ¡°What did you do? Why are we under attack?¡±


    I let the question settle before speaking slowly. ¡°As you know, we¡¯re part of a much wider world. There¡¯s an empire to the north that hunts for humans to enslave. They won¡¯t stop searching this area until they¡¯ve found humans and somehow¡­ they found us.¡±


    Panic rippled through the crowd. Whispers became mutters, then accusations. Fear clouded their faces, eyes darting from one to another, their anger toward the messenger and the newcomers rising.


    ¡°Did you lead them here?¡±


    ¡°What did you tell them?¡±


    ¡°What do we do? What do we do? What do we do?


    ¡°They could be at the gates right now!¡±


    Panic thickened the air. Fingers pointed at the new strangers. Voices clashed. I became a focal point of their rage and terror, but in that swirling storm, I knew defending myself would be useless. It was too late for that. And it didn¡¯t matter. If I had to play the bad guy for Thornhill, I would.


    I stepped forward, cutting through the chaos with a severity that startled even me. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how they found us. The fact is, they have. And if we don¡¯t want a repeat of the pirate raid, we¡¯ll have to stand together, in the coming weeks.¡±


    A disbelieving voice from the back cut through the crowd. ¡°Who are these new people? Spies?¡±


    I gestured toward Wulfric, Ulf, and Edith, who stood to the side, their unfamiliar faces pale under the weight of the villagers¡¯ stares. ¡°These are Wulfric, Edith, and Ulf. They were slaves. They don¡¯t speak our language, but they¡¯re not spies. They¡¯ll stay with us from now on.¡±


    A murmur spread through the hall, suspicion rippling through the crowd. Their eyes traced the strangers¡¯ worn clothes, the foreignness of their faces. Even I could feel their unease and the splash of xenophobia toward the newcomers. Accepting modern people in familiar clothing appearing from the same plane ride was one thing; accepting people who looked like medieval peasants who spoke an alien language was another. It was a lot to take in.


    I cleared my throat, steering the conversation back. ¡°Sophie¡¯s returned with supplies¡ªingots, crossbows, arrows. Blacksmiths, I¡¯ll need you to start on helms and chest plates. The walls are coming along nicely, but we¡¯ll need arrow slits too.¡± My eyes swept over the crowd, landing on Alex and Cade.


    ¡°The dungeon crew needs to start running daily runs,¡± I said, my voice cutting through the lingering hum of anxiety. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been saving your coins, but we need armor. Armor for the villagers. Prioritize helms, chest plates, bows, and then gauntlets.¡±


    ¡°We have been doing that,¡± Cade said. ¡°Bianca had us doing two floors to gather weapons and armor the past few days.¡±


    I sometimes forget that there are a lot more capable people in Thornhill than myself.


    I glanced over at the crowd, watching the reaction. The room fell silent, and the air seemed to tighten around us.


    ¡°We¡¯re making solid progress on the walls, so anyone who can handle a bow or crossbow needs to start training¡ªat least a couple hours a day. Set up targets in the archery range, and rotate shifts. You know the drill, Bianca, make sure the others follow through.¡±


    I held their gaze, letting the gravity of what I said sink in. Then, softly, but with all the conviction I could muster, I added, ¡°I know some of you are hiding your classes for whatever reasons, and that¡¯s fine. But you need to understand this: you have a responsibility. Combat skills level up faster. We need everyone¡¯s abilities sharp.¡±


    ¡°How many will there be, Orion?¡± Alex asked as the villagers dealt with all the news.


    The crowd held its breath, and the anxiety in the air became almost palpable. I hesitated for a moment, but the truth had to come out. ¡°Maybe¡­ three or four hundred. Maybe more. I don¡¯t know for sure. It¡¯s not an official army. It¡¯s a slaver raid party.¡±


    A collective gasp swept through the room.


    ¡°Four hundred?!¡± someone shouted, voice cracking with terror.


    ¡°We¡¯re dead, we need to run!¡± another cried.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way! No freaking way!¡± came a third, and I could feel the panic rising like a wave, threatening to drown us all.


    I probably shouldn¡¯t have said it, but it was too late to take it back.


    ¡°Listen to me!¡± I raised my voice, cutting through the chaos with the sharpness of steel. ¡°I¡¯ll do everything I can to thin their numbers. Alex and Cade¡ªtogether, they can handle twenty of these bastards. And with the arrows, we¡¯ll have ready, they won¡¯t take one step into this village without turning into pincushions. I know we can beat them.¡±


    I believed it. I believed it in the deepest parts of me. And I hoped they could see it in my eyes. They knew I wasn¡¯t an optimist. I was a realist and I truly believed we could win.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let any of you die.¡± I gritted my teeth.


    I nodded to Bianca, signaling that I was done with my report, for now.


    ¡°Okay, you heard the man,¡± Bianca said, her voice low but steady. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to work, alright? We can do this.¡± Her fists were clenched tightly, and though the crowd began to disperse, a few unsure glances lingered, heavy with doubt.Stolen novel; please report.


    Once everyone had filtered out, only the notable holders remained in our roundtable discussion, except for Sophie¡ªwho was busy unloading her portable wagon with a few helpers. A small team of workers assisted her in offloading supplies: bolts, clothing, cloth, crossbows, arrows, and other essentials, including some women¡¯s toiletries. The villagers gathered around Sophie as if she were Santa bringing goodies for all. It was gratifying for them to see their hard work pay off: Samar, our farmer, would receive new clothes and a blank book to draw and write notes in as a reward for her daughter¡¯s help in grafting all the firecracker berry plants. Gabriel, one helper, nearly fainted when he was handed his guitar. The ingots would be delivered to the blacksmith later, with Bart and Jesus flexing their class strength as they carried a heavy bin of ingots on wood rollers.


    ¡°Bianca,¡± I said, catching her before she could step out. ¡°We need a watchtower, or at least a place, to scout the enemy. Highest point. And we need trebuchets.¡±


    ¡°Anika and Ethan already designed the outline of a trebuchet for me. I¡¯ll get on it when I finish the bridge. I don''t think we can make a watchtower with the time we have left but there is a high hill I can use,¡± she sighed, her exhaustion clear in her posture.


    So I wasn¡¯t the first to think of that. Not surprising. Again, these were capable people that didn¡¯t need me micromanaging them.


    I gave a sharp nod and dashed to the warehouse. I grabbed a large plank and returned to the mess hall, where the council remained gathered, watching me with curious, expectant eyes. I took out some paint and figurines and started sketching a rough map of Thornhill.


    The river and mountains to the west formed a natural barrier, one we couldn¡¯t afford to ignore. I painted a thick blue line to mark the river, noting that a wall would be constructed on our side to block any movement across the river. I remembered JD¡¯s vision overhead, recalling the rugged terrain of the hills to the east, with its limited access points. I marked those spots carefully. Those would need to be walled off.


    Then I placed the figurines: the windmill, the shelters, the warehouse, the animal pens¡ªeach a vital part of our defense. The heart of our efforts would have to center on the blacksmith¡¯s forge, the warehouse, the animal pens, and the main hostel. They were the beating core of this place, and we needed to protect them at all costs.


    "The farms are our biggest liability," I said, scratching my chin. "They''re too spread out from our core buildings to defend. We¡¯ll have to sacrifice them to keep the core of the village safe."


    Anika sighed, folding her arms. "Samar won¡¯t like that."


    "It¡¯s too much ground to cover," I replied. "We¡¯ll have them harvest what they can before the raid. Better to lose the fields than the farmers."


    I circled the eastern side of the map, where the dungeon entrance lay exposed on open ground. "This area¡¯s a weak spot. We need to cut it off somehow."


    Bianca nodded. "We already figured that. I¡¯ll get Crag on it full-time after the north wall is complete. We¡¯ll set up wooden barricades for the rest."


    Crag, I assumed, was her level 10 skill¡ªa stone golem that loomed like a fortress wall as it heaved blocks of limestone to reinforce the barriers at the north gate.


    "I don¡¯t expect them to come from the east," I said, finger tracing the path leading down from the north. "But we need to funnel them this way¡ªmake sure they push through this chokepoint."


    I pointed to the northern clearing, a bottleneck of flat land wedged between hills and dense trees, flanked by ponds on one side and mountains on the other.


    ¡°And here, we¡¯ll set an ambush,¡± I added, tapping the map slightly above the windmill and fields again. ¡°A cavalry charge."


    Ethan looked at me, brows knit. ¡°How are we going to get cavalry?¡±


    "Sophie¡¯s on her way back to Kronfeldt tomorrow to hire mercenaries and more supplies. She¡¯ll be back just in time for the raid," I explained, then pointed towards the wooden drawbridge, which would act as a barrier to the village. ¡°They¡¯ll probably destroy the drawbridge with magic to rush through with their men and capture us. If we have one advantage, it¡¯s that they want us as slaves, not corpses.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­ they have wizards?¡± Cade nearly gasped. ¡°Like that elf on the beach?¡±


    I nodded solemnly.


    Bianca, looking slightly skeptical, cocked her head. "If they have wizards, how are we going to stop their magic?¡±


    Cass had the unique ability to nullify magic, a rare skill that would be vital against the enemy''s mages. If we didn''t deal with their backline quickly, we¡¯d be overrun. But revealing Cass¡¯s skill to the council¡ªeven trusted allies like Bianca¡ªwas a risk. If anyone here got captured or tortured into talking, it would put all of us in jeopardy.


    ¡°There¡¯s an artifact I brought back from Kronfeldt,¡± I said, keeping it vague. ¡°It¡¯s like an EMP bomb, but we¡¯ll need to lure them in close before setting it off. Once the gate is destroyed and they march forward, I¡¯ll activate the EMP. You guys just need to find a way to make it rain and hold the chokepoint. No one can escape to warn their empire or emperor¡ªor they¡¯ll send more than a few hundred next time.¡±


    Standing up, I realized we were making genuine progress on Thornhill¡¯s defenses. Bianca, Anika, and the others had stepped up; they knew what was at stake and didn¡¯t need every order spelled out. Not just the council and the Holders¡ªeveryone in the village understood. They had their roles, and I had mine.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s all I can share with you. I need to get going,¡± I said, getting up and leaving the group there.


    As I rose, Bianca¡¯s gaze followed me. "Where are you going?"


    ¡°To the dungeon,¡± I said. ¡°I need to level up.¡±


    Her brows drew together. "The party already went today and can¡¯t go back in until tomorrow."


    If the first two floors were cleared, that was perfect. I could focus on gathering buffs.


    "I¡¯ll go solo," I said, brushing past her. She looked unsettled, but I couldn¡¯t afford to wait or explain.


    Astrid had taken Rudolph to the animal pens, so I¡¯d have to make the walk myself. Before leaving, I stopped by my stash, grabbing my wok, some firewood, tinder, and a jar of lard.


    With that, I set out for the dungeon, chewing on a piece of pemmican from my pack as I went. The dirt road was empty, the sky dimming, but I felt a quiet readiness settle over me.


    Special Pemmican - C


    Firecracker Blast: +20% Alertness and Energy (6 hours)


    Boar Padding: +20% Resistance to Piercing and Slashing (6 hours)


    Migration of the Elk: Slower Stamina and Endurance Decrease (6 hours)


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl: +25% Sprint Speed (2 hours)


    Hide of the Muskrat: Brief Shield Against Rain and Water (6 hours)


    Six hours. That was my limit. By the time I reached the first floor of the dungeon, the rats had already been dispatched, their bodies scattered in stiff piles along the stone corridors. In silence, I picked my way to the boss¡¯ room, where the hulking corpse of the giant black rat awaited. Its fur, matted with clumps of sickly purple, hung in patches over its bloated form¡ªa twisted, unholy heap of muscle and decay. A visceral disgust roiled through me; it looked like something left to rot by the side of a road, tainted by something worse than death. But I needed the power it provided.


    I drew my knife, steadying myself. With a single breath to steel my nerves, I cut into the carcass. The stench hit like a hammer, a blend of sour meat and dumpster fire, tinged with a chemical burn that settled deep in the throat. I gagged, breathing through my mouth as the blade split the flesh and sliced deeper. At the center, nestled in the viscera, was a purple, tender piece of meat that gleamed like polished stone. It looked as revolting as the rest.


    I set up the wok, stacking fuel and firewood, then slathered the pan with fat. Striking a spark with my ignition ring, I coaxed a small flame to life. As the fire crackled, I skewered the tenderloin on my knife and held it over the flames. A thick, dark smoke rose from the meat, filling the room with the smell of scorched filth, something like burning trash. I forced myself to keep going, to ignore the bile rising in my throat.


    When it was as cooked as I could get it, I blew on it and took a cautious bite. The texture was something between a sponge and raw leather, clinging to my teeth as I chewed. My instincts rebelled, every nerve in me wanting to spit it out, but I swallowed. The aftertaste hit with a vengeance, metallic and slick, settling heavily in my gut like a stone. I shuddered, forcing the rest down in one quick gulp.


    The effect hit instantly, a sick, rolling wave twisting my insides. My stomach lurched, forcing me to double over as cramps tore through me, each one sharper than the last. A cold sweat broke across my skin as I shivered, my entire body rejecting the poison I¡¯d just forced down. I clenched my jaw, riding out each heave, refusing to let it break me.


    Minutes passed, and gradually, the pain lessened. As the nausea ebbed, a faint glimmer appeared before me: a card, hovering in midair like a gift from some demonic god.


    Rat¡¯s Fortitude - Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F1


    Passive: 50% Resistance to Poison and Disease


    Slot 1/6


    A slow grin spread across my soured face. It was worth it¡ªbrutal, but oh so worth it. With these new skills, I can do what I need to do to protect Thornhill.


    Beyond the remnants of my gruesome meal, I glanced toward the darkness of the stairway descending further down into the dungeon. I was still hungry.

 Chapter 67

    Chapter 67


    Orion


    Day 51 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 55


    The dungeon''s second floor was still and heavy with the silence that followed violence. I could see the trail that the previous dungeon party¡¯s battle had left¡ªgremlin bodies lay along the corridors. It led me to the altar room, where I found what remained of the orc.


    At the entrance, the stone steps loomed, carpeted in discarded limbs and headless corpses of green gremlins. The orc sprawled halfway up, his massive body torn apart, his torso scorched black where the last strike had cut him in two. Arrows and bolts still protruded from his skin as if he were a cursed doll.


    Looks like the group can finish this area easily now. They must have brought more Holders to level up their range combat.


    With the scene secure, I turned my attention to a more practical task. I cleared a spot on the cold stone and roasted a piece of gremlin thigh. The shriveled morsel of flesh sizzled and popped over the flames, while I kept one eye at the doorway, on guard for any lurking threats.


    As the gremlin meat browned, the scent filled the chamber with something close to warmth, yet unearthly, almost metallic. My knife hovered over it, and I pulled the first piece away, chewing as my gaze swept once more across the silent, death-filled hall.


    Amber Nightstalker - Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F2


    Passive: Grants increased vision in darkness.


    Slot 2/6


    It took real effort to get it down. I had to quiet the horror of eating something so humanoid, surrounded by the bodies of its kin. Eating rats was one thing... but eating these monsters was another. Still, the buff it granted reminded me¡ªpower had a price. A bit of my humanity chipped away.


    A chunk of the shoulder of the orc would go next, the skin thick and tough to cut through. Again, I had to quell the horror that it resembled a human¡¯s shoulder as I cut away a chunk of flesh.


    If I cut it into a small enough piece, maybe it won¡¯t resemble something that came out of an orc.


    Horror filled me as I consumed the bite-sized morsel of tainted orc flesh. I felt a part of my soul recoil at consuming dungeon meat.


    I have no choice.


    Strike of Iron - Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F2


    Active: You can deliver a smash with 200% of your strength.


    200 Second Cooldown


    Slot: 3/6


    The orc leg was still a struggle to swallow, but somehow it went down easier than the rat meat. Whether it was my Rat¡¯s Fortitude or something else, my gut still twisted, though the ache was more manageable.


    Or maybe¡­ my body was adjusting to eating tainted meat.


    Testing my abilities felt like a good idea. Mastery over my card pulls had become second nature now; when I summoned a card, it moved through my palms as if it had always been there. I conjured Strike of Iron and slammed it into the nearest wall. Stone splintered and cracked, leaving a deep crater. Powerful, but it didn¡¯t match my fighting style. Still, it was an ace worth keeping.


    Ahead, the next floor awaited. No time to waste, no space for hesitation. The clock was ticking.


    Two hours later, I stood before the Jester¡¯s room. I bought a Token of Bravery¡ªan emergency escape¡ªand descended to the third level. I''d leave the rest of my coins for the dungeon crew later, so they could buy the armor the villagers needed for the impending raid.


    The level was untouched. Crocodile beasts roamed the marshes, their hulking shadows stretched across pools of dark water. Using Stealth, I crept forward, crouching behind a rise and a patch of purple flowers. After a quick harvest of the blooms, I steadied myself. The nearest crocodile, oblivious, was mine.


    I readied a Deadly Shot with one of my armor-piercing throwing knives, launching it at the crocodile¡¯s eye. The blade found its mark, sinking deep into the left eye socket. With a hiss of pain, it came charging at me. I threw my second knife, an accuracy-buffed knife that blinded its other eye. As it flailed, I activated Strike of Iron, this time channeling it into my stiletto. I drove the blade deep, carving a circular wound the size of a basketball across its chest.


    The crocodile staggered, then collapsed into the muddy swamp with a tremendous splash. I bent down to retrieve my knives, each one slick with blood.


    Investigating the noise, two more crocodiles pushed into the clearing and rushed toward the mudbar where I was collecting loot. I pocketed the three jester coins the corpse had left behind, a brief temptation tugging at me to use the Token of Bravery. But I held back. I needed to prepare myself to handle more than one enemy at a time.


    Retreating to let my cooldowns refresh, I launched a Deadly Shot at the right crocodile¡¯s thigh, then threw a standard armor-piercer into the chest of the one on the left.


    The crocodile on the left charged, claws swiping through the air in a furious arc. I raised my dagger and executed a Parry, deflecting the brutal attack. The creature staggered, stunned, and I seized the chance, driving my long knife into its neck with Strike of Iron.


    I barely registered the rush of air behind me before the second crocodile lunged. Anticipating the strike, I dodged left, circling the body of the first crocodile to use it as a shield. The wounded beast thrashed, sandwiched between us, writhing under the blows. I found an opening and drove my daggers into the soft underbelly of the first while the second crocodile¡¯s claws tore viciously into its back.


    Finally, the first crocodile collapsed, its struggles ceasing as life drained from its hulking form. Without a moment to lose, I reached for an armor-piercing knife, aiming it at the remaining crocodile¡¯s left knee. But as I prepared to throw, it lunged, snapping its massive jaws within inches of me. Guided purely by instinct, I dashed backward, narrowly evading its snapping jaws.


    It pursued me relentlessly, each lumbering step closing the gap faster than I could have anticipated as the mud beneath me made the retreat arduous. My heartbeat thundered as I waited, every fiber of my being focused on letting the Deadly Shot cooldown finish. The knife lodged in its knee slowed its advance, yet it limped determinedly, forcing me to lead it further and further back.


    At last, Deadly Shot came back up. I grabbed my last armor-piercing knife and launched it at the beast¡¯s belly. The blade sank deep, and as the crocodile lumbered forward, thick purple tubes spilled from the wound, slapping against the mud. Breathing heavily, it lunged again, eyes wild with fury.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Channeling Strike of Iron, I braced myself, slamming the skill into its jaw with a sickening crunch, leaving half its face dangling. Seizing the opening, I unleashed a flurry of thrusts with my long knife, piercing the vulnerable underbelly, each strike finding soft tissue beneath the scales.


    With that, my Throwing Weapons skill leveled to 5, and my Path of the Dagger skill hit level 5 as well.


    Once the battle ended and the two creatures lay vanquished at my feet, I turned my gaze to the task ahead. On the mudbar, I gathered dried brush and ignited it with my Ring of Ignition. Flames flickered in the darkness, casting shadows over the walls as I skewered a piece of the crocodile¡¯s tail, dreading the taste of its purple flesh once more. It felt like a deal with the devil himself¡ªevery bite of dungeon meat, each rotted morsel, seemed to turn me into something demonic.


    Crocodilian Healing - Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F3


    Passive: Wounds and muscles mend swiftly, averse to infection.


    Slot 4/6


    My heart pounded, excitement mixing with the echo of battle. This skill was incredible, better than I could¡¯ve hoped. The deeper I went, the stronger the monsters, and the stronger the abilities I earned.


    Knives secured, I made my way to the first stone tower that sprung up through the swamps like lighthouses, knowing that one more creature awaited before the boss¡ªthe snake that guarded the chest. I pushed through the heavy doors and ascended the stone steps, entering a circular chamber. In the center sat a solitary wooden chest, half-hidden in shadow. With Amber Nightstalker active, I scanned the dark rafters above, catching the glint of leathery coils moving in the gloom.


    Without hesitation, I hurled two accuracy-throwing knives into the snake¡¯s body, unable to make out head from tail in the darkness. The creature hissed, blood splattering onto the stone floor as it descended from the rafters, coiling protectively around the chest.


    The snake cocked its head back like a slingshot before lunging toward me at the top of the stairs. I rolled to the side, launching my counterattack as I sprang up. A Strike of Iron connected with my knife thrust, sinking the blade deep into the snake¡¯s neck. But it thrashed, flinging me back against the wall, the impact forcing the air from my lungs.


    Another strike came fast. I raised my arm to Parry, but I was a split-second too late. The creature¡¯s fangs tore into the pemmican-buffed skin on my right arm, piercing through my skin¡ªits jaws wide enough that one fang dug near my wrist, the other near my shoulder.


    Its jaws clamped down hard, but I pommeled my free fists against its skull repeatedly, again and again. The blows rained down until the pressure on my arm finally loosened, and the snake¡¯s head slumped to the ground.


    Pain surged through my arm, the poison leaving dark trails under my skin. I dug out a potion and tincture from my bag, and quickly applied them. The pain eased, and, thanks to Crocodilian Healing, Rat¡¯s Fortitude, and the elixirs, the puncture wounds sealed, and the dark veins of poison faded away.


    I considered using the Token of Bravery to retreat but decided there was one more foe worth taking down. Inside the tower, I started a fire with splintered wood from the chest. As it crackled, I skewered a piece of snake meat over the flames, setting it to roast in the wok. Then I returned to the treasure chest, eager to claim the loot inside.


    Ring of Refreshment - C


    Sleep is more impactful and you require less of it


    I slipped on the ring, feeling its weight settle around my finger. Ten fingers, two rings¡ªso far. I turned back to the roasting snake flesh, steeling myself. Where once I¡¯d been seized by revulsion, now there was a strange, gnawing anticipation. I took a piece of the charred, rotted meat and brought it to my mouth, the familiar dread replaced by a hungry eagerness. The flesh went down easily, each bite absorbed like fuel for the ever-darkening challenges ahead.


    Viper¡¯s Fangs - Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F3


    Active - Coat a weapon with poison that causes damage over time


    600 second cooldown


    Slot 5/6


    Two hours remained on my buffs¡ªfour had passed since I¡¯d entered the dungeon. With only one boss left on this floor, I could face Floor 4 with the group tomorrow.


    A debate ran through my head as I wondered if I should take on this boss alone. It was reckless¡ªnot something I''d normally do¡ªbut the hunger and urgency compelled me. Thornhill was running out of time, and I needed to do whatever I could to protect it.


    In the final stone tower chamber beneath the stairway, the frog monster loomed¡ªa grotesque shadow against the stone walls, filling the room with an oppressive, wet stench. I reached into my satchel, my fingers closing around two clay Molotovs. I ignited one, feeling its heat before launching it forward, watching flames ripple over the creature¡¯s slime-slick skin. It recoiled with a croak, then lunged at me in a furious blur of webbed limbs. I sprinted toward the stairwell; the landing rattling the stones behind me.


    As it closed in, I felt a familiar surge, activating Deadly Shot and Viper¡¯s Fang in one swift motion. A knife spun toward its eye, embedding with a sickening squelch as black veins pulsed from the wound. I darted up the stairs, my heartbeat syncing with the heavy slaps of its movement just below.


    Suddenly, its tongue lashed out like a whip, coiling around my ankle and jerking me downward. Heart racing, I ignited my second Molotov with the Ring of Ignition, sending it down onto the tongue. The creature croaked as flames devoured its grip on my leg. I resumed my climb, watching the poison veins course through the creature as I edged further away with each step.


    Reaching the ground floor, I exited the tower and waited outside. Soon, the creature¡¯s massive bulk squeezed through the stairway entrance, eyes settling on me in rage. It heaved, spitting venom toward me; I sidestepped just in time, the acidic sludge splattering on the doorway hinge, eating into the metal.


    Too wide for the doorway, the frog could only watch as I flung a relentless barrage of throwing knives. When I was down to the last, Deadly Shot and Viper¡¯s Fang came off cooldown. I hurled the last blade into the side of its head, striking deep as dark veins spread across its body. The creature convulsed, its tongue whipping sluggishly one last time before its heavy form collapsed.


    Stepping over its lifeless body, I plunged my stiletto through its underbelly, piercing its heart. When it finally lay still, I cut a clean chunk from its leg, avoiding the darkened veins, and cooked it over a fresh fire.


    Acid Spit - Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F3


    Unleash a projectile of corrosive poison that can inflict damage on enemies.\


    600 Second Cooldown


    Slot 6/6


    It was a powerful skill, one that struck fear into our party every time the creature used it. And now it was mine. Testing it on the dead frog''s corpse, I summoned Acid Spit from my palms and activated it. A green orb emerged from the Void, floating above me like a volleyball before I directed it toward the frog¡¯s head. Where it landed, it ate away the skull and purple matter, leaving a crater-like scar outlined in radioactive green.


    After gathering all my knives and the jester coins, I descended to the final chamber to claim the last chest reward.


    3rd Floor Solo Treasure Bonus


    Unlockable on every third floor if cleared by a single person.


    Satchel of Feather - B


    A durable leather bag that can store more than it can seem. Items placed in it weigh nearly nothing.


    Amulet of Durability - B


    Armor and Weapons last longer if you wear this


    Gloves of Thievery - B


    Increased chance of pickpocketing without being noticed


    I didn¡¯t waste a second picking up the Satchel of Feather, a sturdy, lightweight pack trimmed with black crow feathers. It felt right, like a piece of armor for the journey ahead. I transferred Roza¡¯s bag contents over, knowing I¡¯d need both bags soon enough.


    With my task complete, I moved beyond the boss¡¯s room, descending to the next floor. My buffs had expired. Six hours vanished in the blink of an eye. I made a mental note to explore what powers the harpies or cyclops might hold¡ªbut that would wait for another day.


    Emerging from the dungeon, I braced for the familiar post-battle exhaustion¡ªthe muscle fatigue, the heavy limbs that usually followed a long fight. But I felt steady as if my body had adapted, the pain now manageable. Darkness blanketed the village as I returned, broken only by the glow of fires and lantern light. Even during downtime, people were busy¡ªsharpening spears, chipping flint for arrows¡ªwhile others relaxed over board and card games. Gabriel set the mood, strumming a few quiet notes on his guitar and softly singing 500 Miles Away from Home as villagers gathered in a circle, listening and swaying.


    Seeing what I had to protect and what I stood to lose, my heart hardened with resolve. There were no more doubts.


    Tomorrow, I''d tackle the challenges on the fourth floor with the regular dungeon crew, and afterward, I''d need to do something completely reckless: ride out solo with Rudolph to meet the army. If there was one way to beat a stronger force with a smaller one¡ªin this case, an army of one¡ªit was guerilla warfare.

 Chapter 68

    Chapter 68


    Cameron


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 387


    Fira (May) 15, 611 Imperial Era


    The first reinforcements from Kronfeldt had arrived: water carriers sloshing their loads, wagons creaking under heaps of grain, dirt-smeared diggers, and an inevitable swarm of camp followers trailing behind. I¡¯d never seen such numbers gathered for a mere raid on a small farm, but the Masters, in their meticulous caution, would leave no thread unsecured, not when the prize was so juicy.


    We camped just southwest of Port Havensreach, that busy southern gateway of the Azure Reach Duchies; our hideout, a sprawling cave hunched against the sea cliffs, doubled as a smugglers¡¯ port, damp with the scent of salt, secrecy, and rot. But we were stalled, our progress shackled by the lack of Binding Collars¡ªthose infernal devices without which our endeavor could not proceed. Illegal in the Azure Reach, their very existence a crime, these collars were impossible to produce without the hand of the Divine Forger located deep within the Gold Forge of Fort Inperius.


    The Binding Collars themselves were works of perverse art¡ªcrafted of gleaming silver, inscribed with runes of binding that tied the wearer''s will to that of their master, or ¡°guide¡± as the Empire¡¯s twisted euphemisms went. By the Emperor¡¯s decree, the tethered were to obey their guide in most things, while the Master was bound by the so-called Divine Path to treat their ward with something approaching decency. No torture, no ravishing, no petty cruelties¡ªonly a contract of servitude masquerading as harmony. In the words of the Emperor, it was all so clean, so righteous. A relationship of mutual benefit, or so they claimed.


    The Eldrin, with their sanctimonious airs, saw themselves as the holy guardians of this world¡ªthe only beings capable of taming the barbarous humans who, in the first Holy War, had drowned the land in blood and sin. Through their greed and cruelty, they had driven countless species out of the Corelands, the sacred birthplace of the first incarnations. But from their sins was born their demise, as their mingling with the ancient native races gave rise to the Eldrin themselves. It was the Eldrin¡¯s power that had turned the tide, for they alone could enslave the humans as thoroughly as they had once enslaved others.


    Humans¡ªnumerous as locusts¡ªhad built their sprawling cities, churning out industries that would devour the world. And yet, for all their ingenuity, their armies and military might crumbled under the sheer arcane might of Eldrin archmages. Their classes, once symbols of pride and the source of their rapid proliferation, were twisted against them by the Masters and their diving Bindings. They became tools of the Holy Emperor¡¯s vision, forced into service under the pretense of divine harmony, to create his cities and wage war on their own kind.


    And now, here we waited, preparing to lead¡ªor rather, harvest¡ªanother human farm. Bringing the lost humans back into the care of their Masters. Thornhill, the Thief had called it, another victim soon to be shattered beneath the Eldrin¡¯s heel.


    As a human myself, under such guidance, I could hardly endure the thought of yet another free settlement of my kind succumbing to the yoke of the Eldrins¡ªmy captors, my jailers.


    Somehow I¡¯ll return to you, Ashe. We¡¯ll sail away from these cursed lands where no one can capture us.


    The decision to raid any such place was not arbitrary. No, it was calculated, sanctioned by the Marshall and the Inquisitors, bound by sets of rules, those crusading zealots who scoured the land for any sign of unclaimed Chattel. Where humans gathered, so too did industry flourish¡ªwarlike, fecund, insatiable in their desire to control land and bodies. The Eldrin called it a sign, an omen of their sinful nature. Yet all the races of the Veiled Realms sought the same thing. The difference? The humans were simply better at it¡ªthat is until the Eldrin came into being and harnessed their powers.


    I was in the Master¡¯s tent with First Marshall Hadrelian and his brother, Master Drudus, as they pried information from the Thief¡ªthe human refuse willing to sell out his own people.


    The Thief, Super Nine, was like me. Not because he was a human, or what a sorry excuse of a human being, if you could call him. He was a modern human - from America. He came from my time era. His village, or former village, was full of people like me. And here I was, helping translate the words of his traitorous mouth to the Masters.


    ¡°Fiddy people. At least,¡± Super said with a smirk. He signed the sign for 10 with his fingers spread out, flashing them five times.


    ¡°Is he saying five or ten people?¡± Drudus asked of me.


    ¡°At least over ten people,¡± I said honestly, trying to speak the truth to my Masters but not revealing the full extent.


    ¡°Fifty I believe,¡± Hadrelian pressed a knowing smile to his lips as he guessed correctly from Super¡¯s attempt at sign language.


    ¡°Fifty free Chattel¡­ it¡¯s a true farm then¡­ the mandate is plain in this honored brother. We must send word for a legion and an Inquisitor for this reaping.¡± Drudus said.


    Hadrelian sighed, ¡°Ask him how many Holders are in this¡­ Thornhill, Tethered.¡±


    ¡°How many Holders does Thornhill have?¡± I asked Super in plain English.


    ¡°Holders? Ya mean like¡­ this?¡± Super reached into his palms for a class card: ¡°Thief."


    ¡°A Thief class¡­ he will gain us many Honor Points with the Inquisitors,¡± Drudus said, eyes wide open.


    ¡°Yes¡­ like that.¡± Hadrelian said nodding to Super¡¯s display of his class.


    ¡°Oh, damn¡­ there¡¯s gotta be at least ten, yeah? There¡¯s Bianca, all those dungeon motherfuckers, Herman, yeah be round ten, sir.¡± Super flashed the sign of ten.


    ¡°Ten Holders? It must be a true farm sent by the void, then¡­¡± Drudus mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully.


    ¡°Yo, Chinaman. Translate this for me, cuz.¡± Super turned his wicked grin toward me. ¡°They got some fire classes at Thornhill. Queen B got a rock monster that can build whatever you want. Then there¡¯s this annoying fucker named Cade; he¡¯s like a spear warrior or whatever. Strong as hell. He¡¯ll make a great slave. You make sure they capture that pig, right? Oh, and this little rat fuck named Cass¡ªprolly has a sweet class. Best not to let that little fuck run away. Tell ¡®em that.¡±


    I swallowed hard, translating to the Masters in a near whisper, the words burning like stomach acid as they escaped my lips. ¡°They have some classes, like a warrior there.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The brothers exchanged glances, their eyes alight with greed.


    ¡°This information is not to leave this tent, Drudus,¡± Hadrelian said quietly.


    ¡°B-but brother¡­¡±


    ¡°A true farm with at least ten Holders will allow us to advance at least 3 floors. One step closer to achieving our goals, Drudus. I won¡¯t allow an Inquisitor to steal our prize.¡±


    ¡°But the Divine Path, brother,¡± Drudus ground out, his jaw clenched tight.


    ¡°I am as fervent as you, Drudus, yet we have lingered in these forsaken reaches for far too long, subsisting on mere scraps. We shall bring this farm under the Emperor¡¯s grace. From what we understand from this tattooed Tethered, they are recent arrivals. No more than two months. It shall be a facile harvest.¡± Hadrelian spoke with calming authority, waving away his hands dismissively.


    ¡°What shall we do with Varon¡¯s Tethered?¡± Drudus asked, looking at me with apprehension.


    ¡°Take control of him and hand me control of this one here,¡± Hadrelian nodded his chin towards Super. ¡°Have Varon take his pick from one of my Tethered.¡±


    ¡°Varon will not be pleased. He is most fond of the Ranger.¡±


    ¡°He will have him back at the end of this campaign, along with my reassurances. We will bring him along with us when we reach the 10th floor.¡± Hadrelian smiled wanly.


    So that¡¯s how it was. I was simply a trading card in their collection they swap about. Drudus was a Master class, a class that allowed him to bind and unbind the Tethered, or the Chattel. With a drawn card, Drudus bound my collar to himself and then the Thief to Hadrelian.


    An instinctive command wove through the Tethered and their Masters, a bond as deep as marrow that compelled silence about any gathered knowledge. I was forbidden to anyone, including myself unless their threat hung over the Master¡¯s life like a drawn blade. Another tethered dictate: always speak the truth to the Master and fulfill his wishes to the best of my ability.


    And so, Drudus bade me report on the camp''s situation while he and the others humored Super, that oddity who seemed to fascinate them.


    More soldiers meant more camp followers and more camp followers inevitably meant more latrines. The majority of the beastkin, conscripted by the Eldrin in this forsaken corner of the realm, were doing little more than digging ditches and scouring the woods or sea for food.


    The new arrivals from Kronfeldt busied themselves unpacking supplies, preparing for the long march ahead. According to Zenon, the Eldrin scout, it would take eleven, perhaps twelve days, to reach Thornhill. And until the smugglers at Port Havensreach delivered our shipment of Binding Collars, this camp was at a dead halt.


    So, the idle men dug latrines, foraged what they could, and ran drills, sharpening their blades as though eager for the blood they weren¡¯t yet permitted to spill.


    After gathering an inventory report from the quartermaster and tallying the soldiers'' numbers, I returned to Hadrelian¡¯s tent to deliver my findings. That¡¯s when I noticed a boarman lingering near the tent, pretending to busy himself, though his ears were clearly tuned to the voices inside.


    A spy, perhaps¡ªmaybe for the mercenary companies?


    ¡°You there,¡± I called in Lokan, addressing the boarman. His fur was a muddy brown, his beard long and scraggly, with stubby, almost comical tusks. His reaction was immediate¡ªnervous. When I caught up to him, he stammered.


    ¡°Oh¡­ I was just here to report to Master Hadrelian about the latrines situation,¡± he said in Lokan, his strange accent twisting the words. ¡°Do we really¡­ have to do it out in the open? Can¡¯t we make an outhouse?¡±


    There was something oddly calming about his voice, and the suspicion I had held about him began to dissolve into absurdity.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know your kind cared where you shat.¡±


    He wrinkled his snout. ¡°Preferably not where we eat or¡­ right next to another person in the open.¡±


    His manner wasn¡¯t right¡ªtoo dignified, too fastidious¡ªfor a boarman. I hated generalizing, but I had only met boars who had the uncouth sense to work for slavers and they were usually blunt, unceremonious creatures. This one had an air of propriety, like nobility.


    .


    ¡°Take it up with your commanding officer. You shouldn¡¯t be near this area,¡± I said, dismissing him with a wave.


    As I stepped closer, his eyes widened. Had he never seen a human before? Perhaps not one like me. Most of the Chattel in these lands were European or Mediterranean in appearance, and my almond-shaped eyes, jet-black hair, and complexion likely confused him.


    ¡°Will do. Apologies.¡± He bowed with an exaggerated flourish, an odd gesture for a boarman.


    Usually, I would report such suspicious figures to my Master, though reluctantly¡ªafter all, their safety hinged upon my vigilance. Yet, standing there, a haze enveloped me, and I soon found myself forgetting the very face and name of that figure as if he had never existed at all.


    In my daze, I struggled to recall what I was supposed to do.


    Right. I had to report back to the Marshall.


    Hadrelian and Drudus reclined in fine mahogany chairs, each cradling a glass of wine poured by their Chattel servants, one attending to each of them. They watched with amusement as Super entertained them, though it wasn¡¯t truly freestyle. He was reciting Eminem¡¯s Rap God, but his version sounded like a corny, offbeat elementary school talent show act.


    After finishing my report and delivering the tallies to the Masters, I bade them goodbye to retire to my tent, but not long before I talked alone with the Thief.


    While the two Masters poured over the ledgers, I moved closer to the Thief, who was lounging on a pile of pillows, gnawing on a roast duck leg, one I hunted earlier, and guzzling wine straight from an uncorked bottle. He chewed loudly with his mouth open, his legs splayed wide as if he had already claimed the Marshall¡¯s tent as his own.


    It appears being a snitch came with its perks. They were rewarding him for his loose tongue, and he was relishing every moment of his ill-gotten gains.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± I asked, trying to mask the disgust etched on my face.


    ¡°Chill, cuz. We¡¯re in the same boat,¡± Super burped, flashing a wicked grin as he tapped his silver collar like it was a prized necklace. ¡°I¡¯ve got some scores to settle back there. Figured if I tell ¡®em what they wanna hear, they¡¯ll let me have a few rounds with some of those honeys back in the ¡®Hill.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t believe in that,¡± I said through clenched teeth, the urge to slap him burning through me, but the invisible chains held my hands stubbornly at my sides.


    ¡°Forreal?¡± Super feigned devastation. ¡°Nah, man, that ain¡¯t right. They might not do it to us, but nothing¡¯s stopping us from doing it to each other. Gotta have some little slave babies somehow, feel me? I tried last night, and they didn¡¯t stop me. You know those girls they got at the farm?¡±


    ¡°You tried last night?¡± My blood boiled, but I felt helpless as the words slipped out.


    ¡°Yeah, those girls they captured recently. Had that fine-ass blonde chicken last night. They didn¡¯t stop me or anything. Figured they wanted us slaves to, like, make like bunnies, you know? Like farm animals. Why would they stop us from having a bit of fun?¡±


    Super grinned, but when he saw my face, his expression faltered. ¡°Oh, shit¡­ you didn¡¯t know? You never had a taste, cuz?¡±


    No. Deep down, I knew. There was a reason they called us Chattel, traded us like livestock, kept us in cramped quarters, and let the farms fester. Still, I clung to the hope that we were human. But this... thing before me wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°Man, can¡¯t believe you¡¯ve never had a taste. Earth girls are different. You gotta get all the consent forms and shit. The natives here, though? They just lay back and take it,¡± Super cackled, his laughter like that of a hyena. ¡°Can¡¯t wait to get to Thornhill, man. Can. Not. Wait.¡±


    Just when I thought my disgust had peaked, he started rubbing his engorgement through his designer sweats. I turned away, fury flooding through me. Never in my life had I thought about killing another person, but in that moment, I made a promise to myself: If I ever broke free from these chains, I would put an arrow through that guy¡¯s head.

 Chapter 69

    Chapter 69


    Orion


    Day 52 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 55


    With my newfound strength and a new ring that boosted my energy, I was up earlier than usual¡ªdespite a late night spent hunting and prepping meat to leave in the smokehouse. By morning, I was ready to set out with Cass to hunt and gather a variety of game for a new type of pemmican I wanted to make. I didn¡¯t bring up the whole Messiah to the human slaves topic with him. It was something I knew I was avoiding, but there¡¯d been so much else on my plate lately.


    Mom, I¡¯m sorry. I probably can¡¯t keep my promise much longer.


    Two hours past dawn, the mess hall buzzed with tense energy as villagers filed in to review their assignments for the day. The council, the Holders, the crafters, and the dungeon party had all gathered, their faces clouded with worry. I scanned the room, feeling the weight of what I was about to suggest. There was no easy way to say it: I needed to leave. I¡¯d go straight to the enemy, do whatever I could to wear them down, thin their numbers¡ªanything to ensure they didn¡¯t reach us at full strength.


    Bianca broke the silence, her voice taut. "So soon? You just got back."


    I let out a breath, feeling the fatigue creep in. "There''s no time to waste. If I keep them off-balance, it''ll give you all the time you need to be ready."


    Bianca¡¯s expression hardened, but she nodded. "All right. I''ll make sure everyone knows. You have a blank check, Rye. You¡¯ll have full access to supplies, whatever you need." She turned to the blacksmiths and Anika. "Make sure he¡¯s equipped. The town will cover every cost."


    "I need more clay Molotovs and rope," I replied, already running through the list in my head. "Anika, I need poisons and potions, thanks. And as for the blacksmiths. I need a bunch of new throwing knives. Rudolph needs new shoes and a stirrup. Saddlebags too."


    Bart looked up, squinting and running a hand through his dark brown hair, styled in sharp, unruly spikes. "Shoes won¡¯t be easy. Elk don¡¯t have hooves like horses, you know."


    Anika nodded thoughtfully. "I can make two vials of health potions, maybe. As for poison, I have hemlock and nightshade at hand."


    ¡°Sophie brought back a bunch of glass vials you can use,¡± I suggested.


    "Where¡¯s Sophie, by the way?" Ethan chimed in.


    "She¡¯s prepping to leave with Dasher," Bianca replied. Dasher was Astrid''s second bull. Sophie¡¯s usual mount, Olive, required rest. "She¡¯s heading back to Kronfeldt. She said she''ll bring back bolts, arrows, and ingots¡ªmaybe even a mercenary company if she can find one. She¡¯ll be back before the raid."


    They all nodded in silent understanding, bracing for what lay ahead.


    I didn¡¯t need to ask Bianca if Sophie would be careful with her instructions for the mercenaries, adding a confidentiality agreement to their contract. Sophie and I had already talked at length about her mission back to Kronfeldt on our way to Thornhill.


    "Anything else, Rye?" Bianca asked, that concerned, compassionate look I came well to know, the one that made her a leader worth following.


    "Some alcohol. For the Molotovs."


    She nodded. "I¡¯ll tell Father Gallagher. We have a stash in the warehouse¡ªyou can take what you need." She met my gaze, her voice gentling. "Rye, I understand why you¡¯re going, but... we need you here."


    "You don¡¯t." I forced a smile. "You¡¯ve got the defenses covered. While you set up, I¡¯ll ensure the enemy shows up battered when they reach our walls."


    They were doing great without me so far. They had Herman for military advice, strong Holders to dig trenches, builders to set up traps and siege weapons, and plenty of sharp minds around camp¡ªnot just Anika and Ethan¡ªas well as enough hands to keep watch. I¡¯d be more useful out there, picking off raiders one by one. Besides, I needed to keep an eye on James'' back and stream the news back to Thornhill.


    Bianca clapped her hands, shaking the room out of its spell. "We¡¯ve got plenty to do, so let¡¯s not waste time. I¡¯ll see you all after the dungeon run. Stay safe."


    The room¡¯s air grew charged, ready. Bianca and Anika continued to talk to the rest of the villagers, assigning their daily tasks. The dungeon team¡ªAlex, Bart, Cade, Sasha, and I¡ªregrouped at last, prepared to take the waypoint to level four. I gave them twenty minutes to prepare for our trek to the Dungeon.


    On my way to gather supplies, I stopped by the warehouse for two more clay Molotovs, saving the more useful wine bottles I purchased in Kronfeldt for later. A young woman in her mid-twenties sat at the desk, her almond eyes focused on a wooden figurine she was carving, a dolphin if I had to guess. It was a simple pastime, something most kids had started, though the adults had taken to it, too. It became something of a bragging right about who had the best figurine in camp.


    "Oh, Orion. Bianca mentioned you¡¯d be coming," she muttered, barely glancing up as if she was talking to someone on the phone, chipping away at her carving. "Take what you need."


    "Two clay bombs, and fill them with the strongest alcohol you have. Uh¡ª" I trailed off.


    "It¡¯s Liz," she said, her voice prickling with irritation. "And Molotovs? We don¡¯t have anything like that."


    "They¡¯re clay balls, bomb-shaped, with an opening near the top. Just fill them halfway with your strongest brew."


    Liz rolled her eyes and set down her figurine and obsidian knife with a weary sigh. She straightened her jet-black hair back, rose from her chair, and stretched her arms as if she¡¯d been stuck in that spot far too long. Without a word, she wandered into the back room, where shelves and bins lined the walls, filled with finished products, tools, and supplies, each meticulously organized for quick access.


    "Where¡¯s the other guy¡ªthe bald, rich one?¡± I asked.


    "¡¯The bald rich one?¡¯ That¡¯s kinda rude, you mean Larry?¡± She grimaced and nudged up her glasses with her thumb. ¡°He¡¯s in quarantine.¡±


    ¡°Quarantine?¡± I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yeah, over at the church. Got Covid,¡± Liz replied, finally grabbing a couple of round clay balls from a shelf. She carried them over to a barrel, filling them with a strong-smelling yellow liquid.


    "How many others? Have Covid, I mean."


    She shrugged. ¡°Iunno. Like three or four?¡± She handed me the filled Molotovs, and I nodded my thanks before waving goodbye.


    A COVID outbreak just before a raid. Not good, but¡­ this gives me an idea.


    The thought lingered as I packed my supplies and slung my bag over my shoulder. With the Molotovs, I rejoined the team. We moved out, the sense of purpose settling over us like an old rhythm. It felt good to be heading back into the dungeon together. No fresh faces this time¡ªjust our core group, honed with experience.


    At the dungeon¡¯s entrance, we gathered around to activate the waystone. Its faint light flickered over the iron doors, and with a touch, we chose our path: Floor 4. The doors groaned, opening into a world transformed. We found ourselves at the edge of a steep cliff, where a rock-strewn trail wound down into a maze of canyons. Towering walls forked and twisted, vanishing into the dusty distance. Dark shrubs clung to the mesa tops, where harpies circled in patrol. Ahead, in a pale haze, an ancient wooden bridge spanned between two plateaus, one that led to the stairways that descended to Floor 5.


    As we made our way to the gorge, the others dove into detailed talk about the girls of Thornhill¡ªa conversation I only half-listened to, my mind fixed entirely on the mission ahead.


    ¡°No way, it has to be Aaliyah!¡± Sasha said, flashing a wide grin.


    ¡°I dunno¡­ Aaliyah¡¯s pretty sure,¡± Alex mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ¡°But Bianca? C¡¯mon, there¡¯s something about redheads¡­¡±


    Bart threw his head back and laughed, slapping his thigh. ¡°Ha! Look at Cade over there, trying not to say a word ¡¯cause he totally thinks it¡¯s Sasha.¡±


    Cade fumbled with his helmet¡¯s visor, his hands unsteady. "I¡ªuh..." He looked away, coughing awkwardly. "I mean... maybe... Sophie?"


    ¡°Sophie doesn¡¯t count!¡± Sasha shot back, wagging a finger at him. ¡°That¡¯s cheating. Sophie¡¯s off-limits for this.¡±


    Bart came back from the left flank, leaning into me close with a glint in his eyes. ¡°Well, Cap, what about you? Who do you think¡¯s the hottest girl in Thornhill?¡±


    I rolled my eyes, glancing back at the cliffs. ¡°Seriously, you guys think this is a good time for that conversation?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, Bart, you¡¯ve barked up the wrong tree,¡± Sasha snickered. ¡°The only thing underneath Orion¡¯s pants is another knife.¡±


    The whole group burst into laughter, the sound bouncing off the canyon walls, while I shook my head, trying to stay focused. Somehow, my face flushed, and succumbing to the peer pressure of their teasing, I tried to fit in with their locker room talk.


    ¡°It¡¯s Sloane,¡± I said, my voice deadpan.


    ¡°Oooh, the widow?¡± Alex raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°No offense, Orion,¡± Sasha said, her lips curling into a smirk. ¡°That¡¯s kind of a dark choice.¡±


    ¡°I mean, he¡¯s kind of right, though?¡± Bart shrugged, giving a thoughtful nod. ¡°I didn¡¯t even think about Sloane. Yeah, she¡¯s really hot. Has that whole Sydney Sweeney vibe.¡±


    I sighed and continued, ¡°Let¡¯s get ready. We¡¯re about to enter the chasm.¡±


    We moved along the canyon¡¯s jagged path, wary of the cliffs above. From up there, the harpies would dive with their porcelain masks gleaming¡ªa deadly welcome we knew all too well from our last encounter.


    Just as expected, the harpies retreated as we ventured deeper into the maze. The stone path narrowed, wide enough for only one person at a time. Beyond it, the cliffs curved around a clearing, with thorny bushes growing thickly along the top¡ªperfect for an ambush. I could feel the trap waiting, its invisible jaws ready to snap shut.


    ¡°This part again¡ªshit,¡± Sasha muttered.


    ¡°Not this time,¡± I replied, glancing at Bart. ¡°Instead of walking one by one into that mess, we¡¯re blasting our way through.¡±


    Bart gave a curt nod. I borrowed his warhammer, raised it, and used the Strike of Iron, driving it into the stone wall. The blow cracked through the narrow passage. The shockwave left a jagged opening, and Bart moved in with his hammer, chipping away at the rubble while I held back, waiting for my strike to recharge. Ochre dust thickened the air, coating us as Bart swung again and again, widening the break. When Strike of Iron refreshed, I drove Bart¡¯s hammer¡ªthe weight of which nearly snapped my wrists¡ªinto the rock, sending shards scattering. Bart¡¯s hammer pounded away, his legendary skill making his hammer as light as a pool cue in his hands, until he finally created enough space for us to pass into the clearing, two by two: tanks first, then the ranged behind.


    I pulled out my first Molotov, the cloth wick already smoldering. With a quick flick, I hurled it high into the bushes on the plateau above. The flames sparked, then roared through the dry branches, catching on the wings of the hidden harpies. They panicked, scattering as the fire spread, leaving only five to dive, screeching in impatience or desperation.


    One stood out¡ªthe purple harpy. I didn¡¯t wait. Drawing my Acid Spit card, I activated it, feeling a cold orb of green energy form in my left hand. With a swift motion, I flung it up like a dodgeball. The acid burst over the purple harpy¡¯s wings, sizzling through feathers and flesh. With only one wing, it shrieked and spiraled down, its death granting me a new skill: Blightwielder level 1.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Nearby, Alex leaped onto the flat side of Bart¡¯s warhammer, which was tilted down like the low end of a seesaw. With a mighty heave, Bart catapulted Alex into the descending harpies. In mid-air, Alex¡¯s blade whipped out, and he activated Cyclone Slash. A tornado of steel pulled the harpies into its fierce spin, the blade slashing through feathers and flesh, raining blood and torn wings below as four harpies met their end in the swirling storm of metal.


    As the dust settled and the last harpy cries faded, the canyon felt suddenly silent, our victory hanging heavy in the air.


    The harpies dropped from the sky, battered and bloodied, their wings torn, flailing in a futile attempt to fly. We descended upon them like piranhas sensing blood in the water, weapons raised: spears and knives, hammers and bolts. No mercy. They wouldn¡¯t fly again.


    Then, a rush of wings above. Seven more harpies darkened the blue cloudless sky, and as they dove toward us, they parted, forming a funnel around a single harpy in the center¡ªa striking one, with violet feathers and cold, calculating eyes. In its talons, it held a card, ready to unleash magic.


    ¡°Guard¡¯s Shield!¡± Cade¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, and we took cover behind his summoned shield just as the purple harpy launched a whirlwind. A blast of wind and dust lashed against the shield¡¯s glowing surface, rattling us. But it wasn¡¯t finished. The harpy raised another card, and with a flick of her talons, a boulder materialized above us. It soared through the air. We scattered as it hurtled down, but I held my ground, summoning Strike of Iron and shattering the stone with one swift blow from my dagger''s pommel.


    In its wake, I seized the moment, imbuing a throwing knife with Viper¡¯s Fang. The blade gleamed green, deadly and precise, as I sent it hurtling toward the purple harpy. It struck its chin, punching upward into its skull. Black veins spread like crawling centipedes across its face, and it spiraled down, lifeless.


    Cade stepped forward, unleashing a Spear Flurry at the remaining harpy flock that descended in waves, and Alex brought down a Holy Strike on another. Bart¡¯s warhammer whipped through the air in a boomerang arc, crushing enemies and scattering feathers and gore. When the harpies had fallen, silence returned, leaving only a scattering of feathers in the dust. Before we moved on, I wrapped a chunk of harpy drumstick in banana leaves.


    Keeping close, with Cade¡¯s shield leading, while I guarded the rear, we navigated deeper into the canyon maze. At a dead end, we found a small wooden chest, dusty and old. After checking for mimics with a prod of Cade''s spear, we pried it open to reveal a Bronze Crossbow. Sasha claimed it, stashing her old crossbow to gift to a villager later.


    Then a deep, rhythmic thud¡ªfootsteps¡ªechoed through the canyon, causing the pebbles near us to vibrate. The heavy, deliberate steps could only belong to a giant. ¡°We need another path,¡± I muttered, and we retraced our steps, winding through the narrow maze of rock walls. But the monster¡¯s footsteps grew louder, echoing off the canyon walls.


    ¡°We have to get to open ground,¡± I ordered, feeling the urgency sharpen.


    The canyon widened just enough for our group to fit, but we had no space to maneuver. Far behind us, the cyclops came into view, a hulking figure, its single eye trained on us. It roared, and its enormous legs began closing the distance, each stride bringing it nearer.


    In that moment, two harpies dropped from above, targeting me at the rear. Sasha shot one down with a bolt, while I braced myself, using Parry to deflect the other¡¯s talons. I followed with a horizontal dagger slash, severing its feet, then burying the blade between its eyes.


    We ran, pressing toward the clearing that finally came into view, the canyon walls peeling away to reveal an expanse of rock that led to a rickety wooden bridge stretching across a wide gorge. Beyond it, ochre mountains rose against the sky, and set into the far wall was a heavy iron door. It beckoned, promising safety and an escape from the perils behind us. Yet, there was no way we were going to cross the bridge with a monster on our tail.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to try to tie up its leg. You all keep it distracted and stay safe,¡± I commanded, voice steady and sharp.


    When the cyclops lumbered into the plateau, its heavy club¡ªan entire Joshua tree uprooted¡ªswayed like a battering ram. We braced ourselves for its charge. But instead, it raised a mysterious blue card, and in an instant, its single eye blazed with a fierce red glow. A beam of raw energy tore through the air.


    ¡°Guard Shield!¡± Cade yelled, and Bart, Alex, and Sasha immediately ducked behind the shield¡¯s shimmering wall. I darted to the left, rolling away as I reached into my bag, pulling out a length of rope. Cade¡¯s shield held against the beam, but even so, he staggered, teeth gritted, his greaves digging deep into the ground under the strain.


    While the rest of the group faced the onslaught of that cyclopean beam, I tied one end of the rope to one of my accuracy-throwing knives and aimed it at the Cyclops¡¯ left ankle. It struck true, and I gripped the other end tight. With a flick of my hand, I activated Acid Spit, a green, sizzling projectile arcing through the air toward the Cyclops¡¯ eye. But the acid hit just shy, splashing across its cheek. The creature let out a shriek as the acid gnawed into its flesh, half its jaw melting away. A window revealed his crooked yellow teeth and vile violet tongue. Blinded by pain, its red eye flickered out, and the beam stopped.


    This was our chance. Alex charged in on the giant¡¯s right, and I sprinted left in a wide arc, the rope trailing behind me. But the cyclops thrashed wildly, swinging its club down in heavy, bone-rattling strikes that sent shockwaves across the ground, halting our forward push. Bolts from Sasha¡¯s crossbow and Bart¡¯s Hammer Boomerang flew through the air, but the cyclops, undeterred, battered them away in a frenzy as if swatting at flies.


    I kept circling, waiting for the right moment. Finally, reaching the end of the rope, I tied it off to another knife and hurled it toward the monster¡¯s other ankle. It struck with a satisfying thud, binding both legs tight in a tangled knot of rope. The cyclops stumbled, its legs snagged, forcing it to shuffle with awkward, straining steps.


    For the finishing move, I reached for my last clay Molotov, feeling its cool, rough clay surface as the Cyclops¡¯ rage-filled gaze settled on me. It lifted the massive burning tree club, ready to crush me. I didn¡¯t hesitate. With a calculated throw, I sent the Molotov smashing against the club¡¯s base, right where the Cyclops¡¯s hand gripped it. Flames erupted instantly, fanned by my Firewielder skill. The creature roared in pain, flinging its fiery weapon aside as it staggered forward, but the tangled rope betrayed it. It stumbled and crashed to the ground, its forehead slamming into the ground.


    Seizing the moment, I activated Strike of Iron and charged, my stiletto raised. I drove the blade deep into its eye, piercing down to its skull. The ground shook as the cyclops convulsed, a dark crater where its eye once was.


    But we weren¡¯t done yet. I kept thrusting my dagger into its head, while the rest of the team closed in. In a blur of spears, hammers, and knives, we struck over and over until the beast finally lay still.


    When the rest were catching their breath and gathering the loot, I made ready my preparation for a feast. With the cyclops¡¯s tree-trunk club still smoldering, I took the opportunity to cook up some provisions¡ªroasting a cut of harpy drumstick and a strip of cyclops shoulder over the flames.


    Flight of the Harpy ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F4


    Active: Activate to grow harpy wings and fly for five seconds


    Cooldown: 300 seconds


    Slot 7/6


    Cyclopean Beam ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F4


    Activate: Activate to send a beam of void energy through your eyes


    Cooldown: 600 seconds


    Slot 8/6


    Crap. Now I had to replace two skills.


    Rat¡¯s Fortitude ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F1


    Passive - Gain 50% resistance to poison and disease


    Slot 1/6


    Amber Nightstalker ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F2


    Passive - Grants increased vision in darkness


    Slot 2/6


    Strike of Iron ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F2


    Active - Your fists turn hard as blocks of iron. You can deliver a smash with 200% of your natural strength


    Cooldown: 300 seconds


    Slot 3/6


    Crocodilian Healing ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F3


    Passive - Wounds and muscles heal quicker and are less likely to be infected


    Slot 4/6


    Viper¡¯s Fangs ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F3


    Active - Coat a weapon with poison that causes damage over time


    Slot 5/6


    Acid Spit ¨C Dungeon Gourmand Skill - F3


    Active - Unleash a projectile of corrosive poison that can inflict damage on enemies


    Slot 6/6


    With two new skill cards in hand, I had a difficult choice to make. The first to go would be Rat¡¯s Fortitude. Sure, it had served me well so far, but I already had Dungeon Gourmand. Anything I cooked would be safe to eat, and Anika and her elixirs could heal any sickness that crept up on me. Gritting my teeth, I let it go, slotting Flight of the Harpy in its place.


    Sacrifices, sacrifices.


    Next, I turned to Viper¡¯s Fang. No doubt a useful skill, but with Acid Spit, it was beginning to feel redundant. And if I needed poison, I could always coat my blades the old-fashioned way. Still, releasing both was annoying. With a reluctant sigh, I replaced it with Cyclopean Beam¡ªa skill that could unleash a blast of raw magic.


    My strategy with the Dungeon Gourmand skills will be to save unique or fantastical abilities I can''t get elsewhere, and supplement discarded ones with gear, potions, and Soul Food buffs.


    As I pocketed my new abilities, a thought struck me. If I wanted those old skills back, I could make jerky from some of the dungeon meat to switch abilities as required¡ªa project for another time.


    Standing there, I couldn¡¯t help but realize the difference these skills had made. I was getting strong¡ªstrong enough to hold my own against things I wouldn¡¯t have dared face before. An army? Probably out of reach. But with this arsenal, I could make them suffer.


    As I ate, I had to turn away in shame, the party wincing and cringing at the sight of me gnawing on the monster flesh. The same horror I felt while eating it was mirrored on their faces, and I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling like I¡¯d been caught digging through someone¡¯s trash.


    No choice.


    Across the bridge, a blue magical chest shimmered into view, humming with energy. We watched, tense and hopeful, as Cade''s hand hovered over the lid.


    Fourth Floor First Completion Chest


    Yew Longbow of Ricochet ¨C C


    Arrows have a chance to deflect and hit the target if missed


    Feather Cap of Magic Resist ¨C C


    Increased resistance against Void Magic damage


    Belt of Feather ¨C C


    Potions and bags attached to the belt will weigh almost nothing, increasing movement


    ¡°We¡¯ll take the longbow,¡± I said, the decision already set. Though that Feather Cap was tempting, we had an Anti Mage. ¡°Give it to Bianca. Have anyone in the village with Bowyer skills study it and see if they can replicate it.¡±


    As we moved toward the iron door, Alex cast a sideways glance my way. ¡°Didn¡¯t wanna say anything earlier, but¡­ you¡¯ve gotten stronger, huh, Rion?¡±


    Bart nodded, eyes wide. ¡°Yeah, what was that dagger punch? That was unreal!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m level ten now,¡± I replied, my voice a little flat, weighed down by the grind of the day. ¡°My new Cook skill is kind of busted.¡±


    Sasha flashed a grin. ¡°You¡¯ve been more reckless lately. Kinda dig this badass version of you.¡±


    I could feel it¡ªanother surge of power waiting just ahead. Path of the Dagger had reached level five, same with Throwing Weapons. Major breaking points, both of them.


    The iron door let out a long groan, echoing through the cavern as it finally swung open. Cade stepped through first, Alex close behind, then Bart, and the rest of us followed. Inside, two flickering torches cast a soft glow against the ochre stone, illuminating twin staircases¡ªone leading down into pitch-blackness, the other ascending upward to a faint light above.


    ¡°We need to know what¡¯s ahead,¡± I said, voice steady. Together, we descended into the dark.


    The stairway took us to a new cave, but this one was different. Blue veins pulsed faintly through the gray slate, casting a cold sheen over everything.


    Even before seeing what waited, I knew this level was trouble. The first thing that hit was the cold¡ªa harsh, biting chill that cut through my cloak and seemed to settle right into my bones. In Thornhill, we were used to the gentle warmth of late spring. But here, it felt like stepping into a walk-in freezer.


    The cave wasn¡¯t deep. Behind us was the stairway we¡¯d just come down, and ahead was the cave¡¯s exit. I stepped closer to the mouth of the cave, where gray light barely broke through, spilling weakly over a desert of white powder lined with pine trees.


    I could hear the others shivering behind me, the chattering of teeth breaking the silence as I surveyed the snow-covered landscape with my Amber Nightstalker skill. My fingers and face were already numb. Shaking my head, I let out a sigh.


    Somewhere in the distance, a series of growls echoed, rising like a warning and rolling toward us. Alex looked unaffected by the cold, and there was a tinge of disappointment in his face as we realized what we were up against. I patted him on the shoulder, and together, we made our way back up the stairway.


    The challenges of this floor mirrored what was waiting for us outside. Sooner or later, we¡¯d have to brace ourselves for winter, but we weren¡¯t ready. Not yet. We were still barely scraping by. For now, that meant leaving this place¡ªand those challenges¡ªfor another day.

 Chapter 70

    Chapter 70


    Orion


    Day 52 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 55


    By noon, our party retreated to the village, driven back by the fierce cold on the dungeon¡¯s fifth floor. Once there, the hum of crude industry picked up again¡ªa quiet urgency settling over everything as people worked with focus, preparing for the coming raid. I handed my daggers to Bart, who would take them to the smithy, where they¡¯d get the attention they needed, while I set about preparing for my mission.


    I spent the rest of the day hunting, hauling in meat for smoking and whatever was left to add to the village stewpot. I also made a new batch of pemmican, adjusting the recipe with slight changes that I hoped would give me an extra edge for the mission ahead.


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 0">Special Pemmican - C


    Firecracker Blast - 20% Increase Alertness and Energy (6 hours)


    Boar Padding - 20% resistance against piercing and slashing attacks (6 hours)


    Migration of the Elk - Stamina, and endurance decrease at a slower rate (6 hours)


    Flight of the Scarlet Fowl: 20% increase in top sprinting speed (2 hours)


    Grace of the Hare: Increases agility and reflexes (6 hours)


    I swapped out the muskrat buff for some hare jerky, figuring my new cloak would hold up against the rain.


    Afterward, I remembered an idea I¡¯d had earlier and headed to the church. Outside, Larry and his younger wife by about two decades sat on a bench, chatting over tea, while Father Gallagher inspected his brewing barrels. Other projects, like piles of scarlet feathers, lay on pews next to arrow shafts, waiting to be assembled as the quarantined villagers kept themselves busy like everyone else.


    They¡¯d all come down with Covid-19, but thanks to Ethan, they looked to be on the mend. Inside, though, one of the village washers, a middle-aged black lady sat hunched over, coughing. Ethan hovered nearby, masked with a makeshift scarf as he checked her over. She wasn¡¯t recovering as well as the others.


    Her cough rasped through the room, a harsh, brittle sound, as Ethan draped a blanket over her shoulders. He looked up as I entered the church, more surprised than concerned.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here, Orion. This is a quarantine area,¡± he said, half-resigned, like he already knew I wouldn¡¯t leave.


    ¡°Could you spit in my mouth?¡± I asked the coughing woman directly.


    Confused, she broke into a wide smile and then let out a soft laugh. "Oh, honey, you''re a little young for me."


    ¡°Ethan,¡± I said, turning to him, dead serious. ¡°How long can a virus survive on damp cloth?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re asking about Covid¡­ maybe two days,¡± he shrugged.


    Two days. Not long enough. Giving myself Covid was risky, but I always had a potion for emergencies. If I could get infected, though, it could change the odds in our favor.


    ¡°I need you to give me Covid,¡± I said, my voice low.


    Ethan froze, staring at me. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The Columbian Exchange,¡± I replied.


    His eyes widened, his face plastered by worry and concern. ¡°Orion, you¡¯re talking about the virgin soil epidemic. The population here has no inherent immunity to the pathogens we carry. Exposure could¡­ you might end up wiping out entire villages, maybe even cities.¡±


    ¡°I just need to infect the raiders,¡± I said, steady. ¡°Nothing more.¡±


    ¡°But if any of them make it back to a village¡­ if it spreads¡­¡± He trailed off, doubt clear. ¡°The consequences could be¡­ devastating.¡±


    ¡°No one will make it back,¡± I said coldly. ¡°I¡¯ll see to that.¡±


    Ethan sighed, his face drawn in deliberation. ¡°If you¡¯re dead set on this, stay overnight. We¡¯ve set up extra rolls for potential cases. And you¡¯re leaving first thing tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°First thing.¡±


    Ethan¡¯s mouth pulled into a reluctant frown. ¡°I can¡¯t condone biological warfare or infecting yourself, but I suppose it¡¯s unavoidable.¡±


    I clapped his shoulder, took a seat beside the coughing washerwoman, and settled in, waiting for the fine mist of her coughs to do its work.


    The morning came brisk and gray, and I was ready to head out to prepare for my trip. At the warehouse, I noticed several sacks of tea and berries were missing, and I realized Sophie must have taken them and already left for Kronfeldt. I knew that my time with her together at Kronfeldt would probably be a rare occurrence from now on, as we both had our own paths to follow. She would travel and do her own thing while I focused on my responsibilities at Thornhill. Somehow, I had to fight the twinge of disappointment at that.


    I picked up my gear, and Liz, the warehouse worker, was already there, organizing bins of arrows for transport to the parapets. She had packed everything into my new Satchel of Feather, along with several hemp bags and my old rucksack. Inside were the essentials: extra waterskins, rope, and a bundle of clay jars filled with alcohol, each stoppered and ready to ignite.


    At Anika''s makeshift apothecary, a small shed with drying racks of herbs and a garden nearby, located outside Shelter Two near the warehouse, she handed me a small bundle wrapped in an elkskin tarp¡ªseveral vials of poison, a health potion, a handful of bandages, and a few elixirs wrapped in banana leaf.


    ¡°This one,¡± Anika said, pointing to a green-tinted demijohn bottle wrapped in brown wicker, about the size of a fist and half-filled with red liquid, ¡°is your standard health potion. D-tier. I¡¯m still perfecting it, but you should be able to get four doses from it.¡±


    Next, she pointed to a long, thin test tube made of black-tinted glass. ¡°This is the sedative you asked for. Only use a little, or you might paralyze or kill your target. It¡¯s made of nightshade, mixed with a bit of valerian root for a calmer effect.¡±


    Then she pointed to a dark green ale bottle with a thick, wax-sealed cork. ¡°This here¡¯s the real deal,¡± she said, her tone shifted to something more serious. ¡°A deadly poison, made from a blend of belladonna, wolf¡¯s bane, and a touch of arsenic. A single drop¡¯s enough to kill within minutes. Handle it carefully.¡±


    ¡°You are a goddess, Ani,¡± I grinned, securing the tarp with a leather tie.


    ¡°I wish I could¡¯ve stocked you better,¡± she said with a frown. ¡°Stay a few more days, Rye. I¡¯ll sleep better knowing you have more health potions.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Got a new healing skill up my sleeve,¡± I said, giving her a reassuring nod. ¡°These are just for emergencies.¡±


    ¡°Take care of yourself. And use those poisons carefully,¡± she said, and her cool, clinical demeanor softened in a rare instance. I nodded in reply, saluted her, and set off.


    My next stop in the village was at Astrid¡¯s animal pens. In the pigpen, the two sows had already given birth to a litter of nearly a dozen piglets. The boar, with long, gnarly tusks, appeared freshly shaven, its skin a cream color with splotches of brown.


    At the coop, I saw Ruth collecting eggs in a wicker basket. When she spotted me, she shot me a sour look. The chicks had grown into full-grown fowl by now, and there were ten birds in total, eight of them perched on the nestboxes.


    Meanwhile, Astrid was grooming Rudolph, my elk, muttering in that familiar way, shaking her head like I¡¯d already done something wrong. When she noticed me, her eyes narrowed.


    ¡°What do you want, Orion?¡±


    ¡°My jar of honey. You¡¯re a week late on your payment.¡±


    She snorted, not even bothering to look up. ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t have time. Some of us have real work to do. We¡¯re not all off gallivanting.¡±


    I cracked a smile. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll grant you an extension¡ªunusual circumstances and all. I¡¯ll just take my elk and go.¡±


    She stepped in front of Rudolph protectively, folding her arms. ¡°Leaving already? Look at him, Orion. You¡¯re riding him to death. Give him a break¡ªtake Dancer instead.¡±


    I gave Rudolph a once-over, impressed by how much he''d grown. His antlers spread wide like the branches of an ancient oak, still rough with the remnants of velvet. His coat gleamed midnight-black, and new saddlebags hung from his sides. The saddle was also new, expertly crafted by a leatherworker whose skills had clearly improved. I reached up to rub the thick ruff of his neck.


    ¡°Dancer¡¯s a good elk, but she doesn¡¯t have Rudolph¡¯s strength or speed.¡±


    Astrid clenched her jaw, holding her ground. ¡°Just give him a few days to recover. If you keep pushing him, he¡¯ll be crippled. Please, Orion¡­ a few days.¡±


    I met her gaze, unfazed. ¡°Astrid, we had a deal, remember? This is my elk. If it¡¯s for the safety of the village, I¡¯ll grind him down to glue.¡±


    Astrid¡¯s expression hardened, a sneer creeping onto her face. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be that way! Why do you psychos all talk the same? You can protect Rudolph and keep this place safe at the same time¡ªit¡¯s not an either-or situation.¡±


    Ignoring her protests, I unhitched Rudolph, saddling him up despite Astrid¡¯s glare. ¡°Ask Bianca for your fee,¡± I said, patting Rudolph¡¯s neck. ¡°I won¡¯t push him past his limit. I¡¯m just as fond of the animal as you are, but if we have no other choice, we need to use up everything.¡±


    ¡°So just like that, you''re going to ride my elk into the ground and leave?¡± She trembled with frustration. ¡°We need you here, Orion! Instead, you''ll just ride off on another adventure, leaving us to fend for ourselves?¡±


    I gave a helpless shrug, adjusted the straps, and rode off, feeling the weight of her gaze on my back.


    One last check and I tucked my supplies into Rudolph¡¯s saddlebags. His eyes were sharp, his steps eager¡ªboth of us feeling the pull of open ground ahead. Heading uphill and north, I made one last stop before leaving the village.


    Riding towards the blacksmith, I waited while Jesus hammered the glowing blade of a glaive on the anvil, his strikes steady and rhythmic. Bart worked the bellows, pumping air into the forge, the flames flaring up as the heat intensified. After wiping the sweat from his brow, Jesus set aside the weapon before smiling at me and presenting me with my new dagger.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Same hilt, I replaced the blade,¡± Jesus said, scratching his short beard as he watched me pick up my newly forged stiletto. ¡°Still can¡¯t get it hot enough for steel, but this is much better, ese.¡±


    The blade was longer now, nearly the length of a short sword, its slender form gleaming with a polished black finish. It felt as light as a feather in my hand, perfectly balanced. The crossguard was simple, adorned with a small, rounded pommel. With the enchantment of Knife¡¯s Edge, the blade needed no honing¡ªits edge would remain razor-sharp, ready for whatever came next.


    Feather Stiletto - C


    Weighs 80% less


    Bart came over and handed me the throwing knives that he and Jesus had crafted. I¡¯d ordered them in the same design: long, hand-length lances. Both blacksmiths had made ten each, each one imbued with armor penetration or enhanced accuracy.


    Thanking them, I tried to tip with coppers, but they refused, saying the village was already covering the cost. Instead, I reached into my bag for some cheese I''d received from the mouse farmers back in Kronfeldt and handed each of them a small wedge. It made their day, and they bickered over who had the bigger piece as I left.


    Near the main stockpile, I paused and watched Cass trying to strike up a conversation with Edith and Ulf, the former slaves. None of them were strong enough to help dig the trenches, so instead, they braided hemp rope from spools Sophie had bought.


    Cass¡¯s long, unruly blonde hair was freshly trimmed, and his old baseball cap was nowhere in sight. With the weather warming, he¡¯d swapped to a plain t-shirt under a bronze cuirass. He brightened when he spotted me, eyes narrowing in assessment, while the former slaves got up and bowed in appreciation to me.


    Cass dropped what he was doing right away and fell in step beside me as I made my way to the North Gate, keeping a cautious distance, aware of the virus I might be carrying.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost time, Cass. I didn¡¯t want to rely on you this early, but they¡¯ll have magic users,¡± I muttered, slowing Rudolph to a steady walk. I glanced around, using my Tracking skill to scan the area for any eavesdroppers. ¡°We¡¯ll need to draw them all in before you activate it.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll destroy them all once I block their magic,¡± Cass whispered, his eyes sparking with anticipation.


    ¡°I¡¯ll come for you a few days before the attack; we¡¯ll ride out together to deal with their mages.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be ready, Rye. I¡¯m level four now¡ªmaybe level five by the time they get here.¡± Cass¡¯s voice held a quiet pride as we reached the edge of the gate and I dismounted.


    ¡°I told the dungeon crew you can go up to level two. Just don¡¯t reveal any of your abilities.¡±


    I looked him over. His skinny frame was starting to fill out, lean muscles forming where he used to be scrawny. His gaze, once curious, was now sharp, determined. ¡°When you reach level five, pick something that¡¯ll help you defend yourself.¡±


    Cass clenched his jaw, and his face twisted with a surge of anger. ¡°I found out what happened with the freed slaves. I won¡¯t let that happen to anyone else. I have the power to free them all.¡±


    ¡°For now, focus on staying alive.¡± I smiled, trying to cut through the tension. ¡°Cass, this is war. It¡¯s not a game anymore. Even if we win this battle, we''ll lose it all if anything happens to you.¡±


    His eyes burned with a new fire. ¡°There have to be others like us in this world. Slaves. People trapped. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here, right? It¡¯s our destiny, Rye! That¡¯s why the Void gave me this class. We have to save our people.¡±


    Our people?


    Destiny, fate¡ªwhatever he wanted to call it. I shook my head. ¡°For now, just survive. Take care of yourself.¡± I climbed back onto Rudolph and nodded to Cass, leaving him with a look of quiet disappointment as I rode off alone.


    Heading for the open road, I caught sight of Bianca, Alex, and Cade at the North Gate, busy reinforcing our defenses. Bianca was setting up wooden targets along the limestone walls, marking them with paint I¡¯d brought back from Kronfeldt. I felt a pang of guilt watching them work, hands deep in the dirt, while I was riding away.


    Before I could slip out unnoticed, Bianca spotted me and jogged over. ¡°Rye, hold on.¡±


    ¡°Best keep your distance,¡± I said, pulling up short. ¡°I¡¯ve got Covid.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be riding off sick then.¡±


    ¡°No choice,¡± I replied, avoiding her eyes.


    Bianca folded her arms, her expression one of genuine worry. ¡°Rye¡­ please don¡¯t go. What do you think you¡¯ll do out there alone? They¡¯ve got mages, scouts, probably hundreds of fighters. We don¡¯t even know their numbers yet. Stay here. Help us get ready. We can face them together.¡±


    Her concern caught me off guard. When I¡¯d first explained my plans, she¡¯d appeared supportive, almost approving. But now her worry felt sincere¡ªsomething new that hadn¡¯t been there before.


    ¡°Did Sophie tell you something before she left?¡± I asked, trying to understand the shift.


    Bianca hesitated. ¡°She mentioned¡­ you two met a fortune teller¡ª¡±


    I let out an exasperated sigh, cutting her off. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡±


    ¡°Rye¡­¡±


    "No. We¡¯re not basing our defense policy on the words of a psychic. What''s next¡ªthrowing dice for tax brackets?"


    "In a world full of crazy stuff like golems and spell cards, you¡¯re not even the least bit open to fortune-telling?" She sounded more hurt than angry.


    ¡°And how would knowing my future help? Knowing might hold me back. Those doubts¡ªa single hesitation would mean death for me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need a fortune teller to see that you are pushing yourself too hard. Remember the last time you got sick before an attack? And now you¡¯re riding out, alone, with Covid?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m stronger now.¡±


    ¡°But not invincible. You¡¯re not alone, Rye. We¡¯re in this together. Let''s fight side by side.¡±


    I gave a small nod, as if weighing her words. ¡°There are things I can do riding out on my own. I know my piece on the chessboard. I know what I have to do.¡±


    Her brow creased. ¡°What piece is that? A sacrificial pawn?¡±


    I let a faint smile slip. ¡°I¡¯d like to think I¡¯m a bit more important than that. I¡¯m more like a knight. I¡¯ll move forward, cross the lines, disrupt things.¡±


    She looked away, then back. ¡°And what about me? What piece am I?¡±


    ¡°The Queen. Without you, we¡¯d lose a lot of our strength. It¡¯d be nearly impossible to win if you don¡¯t survive.¡±


    ¡°And the King?¡±


    I trusted Bianca more than anyone, but if I couldn¡¯t keep Cass¡¯ secret between two people, how could I keep it between three?


    ¡°The children here,¡± I said truthfully, unwilling to lie. ¡°We¡¯re setting the foundation so they can win, Bianca. It won¡¯t be us who finish this war. It¡¯ll be the children of Thornhill.¡±


    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± she murmured, her voice soft, ¡°maybe your board is just how you see it. On Alex¡¯s board, maybe Sasha¡¯s the king. On Marek¡¯s, it¡¯s his wife and children. And on Cass¡¯s board¡ªmaybe it¡¯s you.¡± Her eyes glistened, wet with restrained emotion.


    ¡°It¡¯d be a nice thought,¡± I said softly, ¡°but not an objective one.¡±


    ¡°You know I could order you to stay,¡± her voice hardened.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Should I?¡±


    ¡°If you trust me, you¡¯ll let me go. It¡¯s best for the village.¡±


    She frowned, but finally turned away. ¡°Come back in one piece, Rye. I won¡¯t forgive you if you get captured or hurt.¡±


    And just like that, she was gone, melting back into the crowd, directing Slate and Crag, managing the fortifications.


    I turned my elk and continued north, my heart heavy as I had to leave my home once more. I headed northeast, following the river, then veered east through a forest clearing with a compass and a faded pirate¡¯s map in hand. A pass opened between two hills, leading into boar-filled meadows.


    Soon, JD, my bird familiar, joined me, having followed James and flying above like a northern star, guiding me toward the enemy.


    I scouted the pass, searching for a camp. One cave seemed promising¡ªno signs of troglodytes. I used my Strike of Iron skill to dig a small cache for supplies to lighten Rudolph¡¯s load. As dusk fell, Rudolph settled by my side, with JD keeping watch. I laid my bedroll against Rudolph¡¯s warm back and drifted off to sleep.


    The next morning, I practiced my knife-throwing skills on elkback, bringing down a rabbit, which I roasted over a small fire. As I ate, I used my mind¡¯s eye, tapping into JD¡¯s view of the open plains. Rocky hills lay to the south, blocking the beach, and forested slopes rose to the north. I marked possible campsites and used JD to search for another place to set up.


    Then I spotted him¡ªa lone white horse with a human-like rider perched on its back. JD¡¯s sharp eye picked him out in the hills. The rider scanned the horizon with a copper spyglass, then made notations on his map. He wore light leather armor, painted red, designed for both speed and agility on horseback. His black hair was slicked back, streaked with red, and his long, pointed ears and piercing gaze marked him, as did the Crimson Scythe badge pinned to his chest.


    A Crimson Scythe scout.


    The scout stopped, scanning the forest with narrowed eyes before slipping down a narrow path between the hills. Not wanting to endanger Rudolph, I tethered him behind a thicket and moved forward alone. Keeping to the shadows, I tracked the scout with my Stealth and Shadow Walk skills. In the meadow pass, he paused, frowning and peering around as if he¡¯d sensed a presence.


    Then, with a strange, knowing smile, he drew a card from his palms and nodded to himself.


    ¡°Come out. I know you¡¯re there.¡± In Lokan, his voice was smooth, playful, almost too light. ¡°From the farm, right? Thornhill?¡± His tone turned mocking. ¡°A lost chattel? I won¡¯t hurt you. Come on out.¡±


    Crap, I got too close. I¡¯d need to be careful around these scouts.


    That was enough for me. This scout wasn¡¯t getting away. I dug into my pack for a strip of pemmican, chewing slowly as I summoned Acid Spit. The ball of green acid flew, striking the white stallion in the neck. The horse screamed, a sickening sound as flesh melted, nearly tearing the head from the body. The rider leaped off, his gaze hardening.


    ¡°You leave me no choice, chattel!¡± He snarled, eyes gleaming with a strange hunger as he licked his lips. He raised his arm and hurled a blast of air toward my hiding spot.


    I activated Flight of the Harpy, leaping just in time as a vortex of wind tore into the underbrush. My wings beat once, then twice, lifting me to the safety of a high branch. Below, the scout scanned the shadows, unaware of my position. I drew a throwing knife, activated Deadly Shot, and let it fly¡ªa black iron blade aimed straight for the unprotected crease at his neck.


    At the last instant, he raised a bronze buckler, deflecting the knife with an inhumanly fast reaction. He drew a slender estoc as long as his arm and a half, his eyes narrowing as he activated another skill. His next attack was more than a strike; it was a violent gust of air, a razor-thin current that cut through branches like paper. The branch beneath me shattered, and I dropped, wings faltering as the last breath of Flight of the Harpy gave out.


    I landed hard, instantly releasing an armor-piercing throwing knife. It struck his buckler again with a loud clang, denting it, the metal groaning under the impact. Without a moment¡¯s pause, he sprinted for me and lunged, estoc gleaming, aiming for a clean thrust. I activated Parry, managing to turn his blade enough to avoid a fatal strike.


    But he didn¡¯t slow or even react to the effect of Parry.


    What the hell? That¡¯s not fair!


    Seizing on my moment of astonishment, his next attack landed, the estoc slicing through my leather shoulder spaulder with brutal speed. I bit back a scream, struggling to keep my footing against the sharp pain.


    Gritting my teeth, I reached with my left hand and drew the Cyclopean Beam skill card. In one fluid motion, I tapped it, feeling the power surge through me. Then, with my gloved hand, I snatched the scout''s outstretched wrist. Blood ran hot down my right arm, but I held the scout¡¯s arm firm, locking him in place.


    Fear flashed in his eyes as he realized he was stuck to me. A searing red light ignited in mine, as bright and hot as the sun itself. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as the beam unleashed, intense and blinding. The scout¡¯s right arm melted away, flesh and sinew reduced to charred ruin, his shoulder and chest smoldering from the blast.


    He staggered back, dropping to the grass, breaths shallow and ragged. His eyes were wide, stunned with disbelief, his torso half-missing.


    ¡°Hadrelian¡­ must know¡­ they have someone like¡­¡± His words faded, and with a final breath, he collapsed.


    One down, hundreds more to go.


    With a steady breath, I felt the adrenaline settle as I kneeled to loot the scout¡¯s body. First, the estoc¡ªit was too cumbersome to carry for now, but it had potential. I¡¯d stash it at my supply drop and retrieve it later, saving Rudolph from the extra weight.


    His coin purse was next, then a potion hanging from his belt. I tucked it away, opting to let my shoulder heal naturally, rather than cure the wound along with my Covid. Instead, I relied on some strong alcohol, herb-laden bandages, and my passive skill, Crocodilian Healing, to mend the wound over time. His spyglass, the map marked with his scouting notes, a ration of salted pork, and a waterskin were useful finds. I slipped on his well-worn leather gloves, their warmth and dexterity making the switch worthwhile.


    One last thing caught my eye¡ªa simple necklace strung with iron. The pendant was odd: a marble-like pearl, golden-hued and shaped like a frog¡¯s eye.


    Amulet of Steady - D


    Blocks one status effect caused by a skill.


    900-second cooldown.


    Satisfied, I turned to the horse¡¯s carcass. Not one to waste, I cut thin steaks from the meat, saving it for later. Slow-cooking the cuts over the campfire, I ended up with a hearty pile of horse jerky. For all my minimal effort, it granted a valuable buff¡ªa C-rank boost I hadn¡¯t expected.


    Roast Stallion Steak - C


    Horse¡¯s Resolve: Improves movement speed and stamina (6 hours).


    The meat was excellent¡ªsweet and mild. It spoke to the skill of the breeders who raised these animals, the kind of quality that allowed me to turn a simple steak into a C-rank meal.


    JD eagerly shared in the meal, nuzzling me for each bite I passed to him. As he took the night watch, Rudolph and I settled in a hidden nook, sheltered and secure for the night.


    The next day was relentless. With every step eastward, my body bore the strain, and by evening, a dry cough caught up with me, leaving me winded but resolute as we drew nearer to the enemy camp.

 Chapter 71

    Chapter 71


    James


    Day 58 of First Landing


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 452


    The smugglers finally came through; bins with sixty silver collars clanked onto the dock, alongside crates of weapons and barrels of watered wine and rations: salt pork and ship¡¯s biscuit. The white-sailed brig, looking every bit the innocent trader¡¯s vessel, bobbed in the bay as men swarmed over it, none too different from the lot that¡¯d stormed Thornhill¡¯s shores. Boars, ratmen, frogmen, gnolls¡ªthe usual ragtag mix out of the pirate isles and Beastkin of the Azure Reach.


    Once they''d offloaded everything, the soldiers and camp followers loaded it all into wagons strapped to a long line of stubborn mules.


    Hadrelian¡¯s lot weren¡¯t taking any chances, either. The collars went straight to the commander¡¯s carriage, guarded by wolves and humming with circular blue wards along the edges of the commander¡¯s camp tent.


    Someone had tipped them off that prying eyes were about, though they¡¯d yet to find me lurking on the edges. In times like these, I wished I¡¯d unlocked that blasted Wiretap skill. But without my Chameleon¡¯s Mask, I¡¯d be under the spell of those blasted collars.


    Still, there were other ways to pull in whispers. Camp gossip was fertile ground, trickling down from the top through the ranks. Drusselian, one of our scouts, hadn¡¯t returned; rumour was, he¡¯d fallen to a mercenary ambush. Zenon, however, the other scout, had managed to slip through, map in hand, and we were finally setting our route.


    To the south, rocky cliffs and hills cut off any straightforward path along the coast toward Thornhill. The North highway was out of the question too¡ªHavenreach mercenaries were crawling all over it. So the path to Thornhill would run through Wenvale Pass. We¡¯d stop off at some pillaged farm along the way, stock up on rations and manpower, and then march east through the rest of the pass to the Yendel River, which the Thornhill folk called Turtle River, then cut south to strike the village.


    From what I could wring out of a few older hands in the Red Scythe, we¡¯d hit the river in about nine days. So, ten days from now, Thornhill would be staring down an army of five hundred or so against a paltry fifty on their side. Our odds, Thornhill¡¯s odds, were stacked against the village¡¯s favour.


    There were maybe a hundred proper soldiers among them, grizzled veterans head-to-toe in bronze armour, ready to flatten anyone in their path. And then, looming in the back of my mind, were the high-classes: the seven strongest we had. Make that six if Drusselian didn¡¯t return. Among them, were two high mages who could level entire battalions with a flick of the wrist. It didn¡¯t exactly fill me with confidence.


    I hoisted a bin of wooden spoons and rusty knives onto a wagon. The rat-faced fellow I¡¯d survived initiation with was working alongside me. But my eyes kept flicking to the sky, searching for that telltale flash of blue. Waiting for JD, my loyal feathered spy, to turn up with any word.


    Later, after supper, a fiddler dragged his bow, and we all clustered around the fire. Talk was light, full of rumour and speculation.


    ¡°I hear the haul¡¯s big this time¡ªfifty Chattel,¡± said a gruff gnoll, scratching at his mange. ¡°You know what that means? A First Mint for each of us when the job¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°Dealer¡¯s balls, with this many men here, we¡¯ll be lucky if they cough up a Second,¡± grumbled a rat-faced fellow beside me.


    ¡°Eldrins don¡¯t skimp on pay,¡± the gnoll said, wiping the corner of his mouth. ¡°Not with this many Chattel on the line.¡±


    A lull in the conversation let me get a word in. ¡°Not worried we might¡­ lose?¡±


    The campfire crowd burst out laughing, hearty and incredulous.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s just Chattel, isn¡¯t it? Nothing but fodder. And there¡¯s not a soul out there to stand against the Eldrins. The Ironclad Company¡¯s finished; everyone knows that. Nothing in Southern Crown but trogs and bears.¡±


    ¡°What if the Chattel fight back?¡± I pressed.


    The gnoll gave me a look like I¡¯d just suggested the sun might rise upside down. ¡°Chattel? Fight back? Not against the Eldrins, they can¡¯t. Not against Void Magic. All we¡¯ve got to do is round ¡®em up.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t Chattel have mages? Or warriors?¡± I asked, glancing around. I could¡¯ve sworn I¡¯d seen a few decent fighters among the villagers of Thornhill. But from the way this lot talked, it was like we were dealing with toddlers.


    ¡°Rare as hens¡¯ teeth. Chattel mages,¡± muttered the rat. ¡°One in a million chance of ever being born a mage, them Chattel. Chattel work the fields, dig in the mines, pound the iron. They¡¯re not warriors, not against Eldrins. Only ones who can stand against Eldrins are the Halfrins like the Phoenix Queen and her cadre, maybe the Dragonfire Clan or the Faerin. But Chattel? No chance.¡±


    A chill ran through me. Where I came from, humans made a bloody art of fighting. We¡¯d conquered with steel and guns, and eventually with commerce and science. But here, with the collar around our necks, magic pressing down like an iron fist¡­ How the hell could we ever claw our way up?


    I left the fire in a sour mood, muttering something about nature¡¯s call.


    Standing by a tree, mid-relief, I caught the flutter of wings above me. I hurriedly did up my trousers and grabbed a torch, lifting it to see a faint shape perched on a branch¡ªdark blue feathers, bright eyes. JD. He didn¡¯t call out, just lifted into the air, gliding further into the trees, urging me to follow. I glanced back at the camp, the fires still bright and flickering, a scattered line of torches casting pools of light. But ahead lay blackness.


    With a steadying breath, I moved after him.


    My torch sputtered, its light dwindling to almost nothing, casting only a faint glow about a meter ahead. Shadows pressed in tightly around me. Then, just beyond the camp¡¯s reach, a figure emerged from the trees, perched at some height, eyes glowing with an inhuman yellow behind his cat¡¯s mask. Beneath him stood a massive, nearly invisible beast, its fur blending into the twilight. Its antlers in the moonlight stretched wide like a jagged crown, each branch twisted and ancient, resembling the gnarled roots of a long-buried tree.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°There¡¯s more than I expected. Four hundred of them?¡± the figure dismounted and removed his mask, his voice putting me at ease with its familiarity.


    ¡°Nearly five hundred, if I had to guess,¡± I muttered.


    He fell silent, thoughtful, and then asked, ¡°Who¡¯s leading them? What does he look like?¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t reach him. Reddish-orange hair, long pointy ears, a high mage. He¡¯s planted deep in the middle of camp, ringed with wards and guards. You¡¯d be mad to try,¡± I warned.


    ¡°I ran into one of those Eldrins¡ªa scout.¡±


    ¡°You killed him?¡± I blurted, stunned. ¡°That¡¯d be Drusselian. He¡¯s¡­ well, I can¡¯t say exactly how strong, but not on the level of Hadrelian, Drudus, or Varon, that¡¯s for certain. Still¡­¡±


    I filled Orion in on their marching plans, their path to Thornhill, their planned stop for resupply, the supply lines¡ªeverything I¡¯d picked up so far.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else.¡± I lowered my voice. ¡°Remember Super Nine?¡±


    His brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°What? Super Nine? Sounds like a soft drink.¡±


    ¡°No, no. It''s his name. That guy with the tattoos and colorful dreads, always hanging around the village helping Herman.¡±


    ¡°Oh, him¡­¡± Orion¡¯s expression shifted to one of recognition. ¡°What about him?¡±


    ¡°I spotted him in Hadrelian¡¯s tent. He was spilling everything he knew about Thornhill, our people, even some of the classes. He¡¯s giving them intel, Orion.¡±


    ¡°What? Are you serious?! Why would he do that?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got a collar on, so maybe they¡¯re forcing him, but¡­¡± I shook my head. ¡°The thing is, he sounded almost¡­ eager. They don¡¯t appear to be compelling him. He might be doing it willingly.¡±


    ¡°I heard some whispers before we left¡­ something about a thief causing trouble, someone being thrown out of the village. Didn¡¯t pay it much mind at the time. I should have¡­¡± He cursed under his breath. ¡°Dammit!¡±


    Orion¡¯s anger flared up like a match catching, so fierce he choked on it. He let out a fit of coughing that rattled his frame, and I took a step back, partly in caution, partly in disgust.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else you need to know,¡± I said. ¡°There are at least fifteen human slaves with us. You¡¯ve got to make sure they¡¯re not hurt when Thornhill¡¯s hit. None of them are here by choice.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do. But if they get in my way, I¡¯ll have no choice.¡± He paused, eyes darkening. ¡°And there¡¯s something you should know, too. I¡¯ve set up an anti-magic EMP artefact at Thornhill. When it goes off, your glamour will fail. You¡¯ll be on your own. Not only that, but the collars? They¡¯ll deactivate. Tell all the slaves to throw down their weapons. I doubt the defenders will shoot unarmed people.¡±


    I felt a cold sweat pricking at me. ¡°You¡¯re serious? My disguise will drop? Oh, that¡¯s just wonderful. If they realise I¡¯m human, a Chattel, they¡¯ll kill me on the spot.¡±


    ¡°And one more thing¡­¡± Orion¡¯s voice was dangerously quiet, his words dripping with murderous intent. ¡°Find a way to get this¡­ Super guy to the outskirts of the camp. I need to have a little chat with him.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°That¡¯ll be tricky. He¡¯s turned into Hadrelian¡¯s court jester. He¡¯s constantly around them, rapping and freestyling. Hadrelian seems to have a thing for¡­ hip hop.¡±


    ¡°Really? Does he have bars?¡±


    I sighed, trying not to roll my eyes. ¡°Not even close. He just steals lines from real artists. Kendrick, Drizzy. The usual.¡±


    ¡°Drizzy?¡± he snorted, laughing between coughs.


    Ignoring the heat rising in my cheeks from that little slip, I pushed on. ¡°Thing is, he¡¯s been telling them about our world¡ªtechnology, guns, heavens, even social media. But he barely understands basic science, so they think it¡¯s all magic.¡±


    ¡°Then he can¡¯t be left alive,¡± Orion said flatly. ¡°Do your best to get him alone.¡±


    I took a steadying breath. ¡°What¡¯ll you be doing?¡±


    ¡°Guerilla warfare,¡± he said, voice hard as iron. ¡°And I¡¯ll be in touch. JD will be in contact with you.¡±


    Orion reached back and pulled out several damp, fur-and-flax rags. When he handed them to me, I nearly gagged, recoiling even through my gloves¡ªthe thought of another man¡¯s bodily fluids soaking camp cloth was revolting. I could only imagine what he¡¯d been doing with them.


    ¡°Place these in their water supply or around the cots and sleeping areas, especially where people gather. They¡¯re infected with COVID,¡± he rasped, his voice dry.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do¡­¡± I replied, nerves already strung high. Now, I was about to commit biological warfare.


    ¡°Take care of yourself, Jim,¡± he said, preparing to part ways. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a potion, and downed half its contents.


    I let out a long sigh and slumped, feeling like a noose had just slipped around my neck, tightening with every second.


    ¡°Orion, can¡¯t I just come with you? Once I¡¯ve dropped these rags off? I¡¯m not fit for this work. Every day I wake up with cold sweat thinking they¡¯ll find out I¡¯m a human or spy and find a knife in my back or a torture room.¡± I pleaded.


    ¡°I need a spy on the inside to track their movements. Don¡¯t you Brits love James Bond?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bloody fictional character.¡±


    A silence filled between us as he let out a deep sigh.


    ¡°We have a responsibility, Jim. If I could take your place, I would, but you have your skills, and I have mine. We don¡¯t get to choose the cards we¡¯re dealt, only the hand we play.¡± Orion said, reaching over to pat me on the shoulder.


    Orion glanced over, an unusual tenderness in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry, by the way.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± I asked, brow furrowing.


    ¡°When you first got here¡­ I was a massive asshole to you,¡± he managed between coughs. ¡°Thought you were just some womanizing rich dude. But everything you¡¯re doing¡ªit takes a lot of courage, Jim. I¡­ misjudged you.¡±


    Hearing it out of his mouth felt surreal, like being approached and nuzzled by a stray feral cat, and I held onto the warmth of it, feeling a strange surprise.


    "Oi, sod off, yeah?¡± I shot back, grinning. ¡°Don¡¯t talk like one of us is about to die. I¡¯ll see you back at Thornhill. We¡¯ll knock back a pint over these bastards¡¯ skulls, alright?"


    He snorted, a brief flicker of a smile cracking through that face. In that instance, I realized that he was so young. Far too young. He should be out touring campuses instead of doing¡­ such grim work. I felt a twinge of pity for him then. Lad, you¡¯re too young to be doing this. Then he hauled himself back onto his elk, rummaging around in his satchel before tossing me a sack. I fumbled it, nearly dropped it¡ªclassic¡ªbut managed to keep it off the ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± I asked, hefting up the food in the hemp bags he brought me.


    ¡°Try to stay away from wine casks and whatever food they serve. Eat this instead.¡±


    I nodded, understanding the implication, feeling famished and biting into the bar of meat and dried fruit. It tasted like fruit-flavoured jerky.


    ¡°Grateful for the meal,¡± I said,


    ¡°Grateful for the company,¡± Orion replied, turning and disappearing into the gloom.

 Chapter 72

    Chapter 67


    Cameron


    Fira (May) 22, 611 Imperial Era


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 459


    As a ranger, I was in charge of the hunt, bringing fresh meat back to the Chattel cooks for the Eldrin Masters to dine upon in the grand Commander¡¯s tent, where they feasted on wild game, cheese, fruit, and rare vintages, all while listening to the musical stylings of one wannabe rapper. They ate lavishly, while the rest of the men subsisted on crackers, porridge, and shredded salted pork.


    Knowing how to hunt means understanding what the hunted must feel: that constant alertness, where every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves signals danger. To be prey is to live in a state of unrelenting vigilance, where every shadow hides a potential threat. Yet, for all their strength, the Eldrins here lacked that instinct¡ªthe readiness to survive a hunt¡ªhaving always been the predators, accustomed to preying on the weak.


    We set out early on the first day of camp, just a day after receiving those cursed Binding Collars. Food and drink were secured, the men were restless, and the Eldrins were eager to reap. As we marched toward the Wenvale Pass¡ªskirting the main highway between Havenreach and Kronfeldt, where patrols were on high alert¡ªstrange signs began to appear. Yet, the Eldrin ignored them, lacking the instincts of the hunted, blind to subtle warnings that only those who¡¯ve been prey could recognize.


    The first sign was a persistent cough among the men. It started as soft throat clearings, but by nightfall, a low chorus of coughs echoed through the camp, growing steadily like drizzle turning into a storm. Alongside this, several men had gone missing, with their captains reporting them as deserters. Such was the honor among outlaws that no one questioned their absence; desertion was simply acknowledged as part of this sordid business.


    Only after a bout of food poisoning sent six men to their cots early did the camp start to believe this raid was cursed. Later that night, around the campfire, an eloquent boar regaled the men with a chilling tale of former farmers and slain mercenaries who had risen as ghosts to torment their killers.


    Like children unsettled by a scary bedtime story, the men slept restlessly that night, each keeping one eye open, wary of the ghosts they imagined lurking around every corner. The unease clung to them, lingering well into the next morning.


    Day two of the march to Thornhill seemed smooth enough for the Red Scythe, but already, the sick were piling up. Fatigued men, hacking up their lungs, filled the wagons designated for the wounded. Their symptoms bore a striking resemblance to a flu-like illness I knew back home, but I dismissed the notion that I could have been the source. A year had passed since I¡¯d been stranded in the Veiled Realms. This must have been Super¡¯s doing¡ªarriving just months prior, he could have unknowingly carried the disease. Either that or the severity suggested something entirely new.


    Throughout the camp, it was clear who suffered most: the grunts, Beastkin. The Eldrins, however, remained unaffected, shielded by enchanted gear or benefiting from elixirs and potions that purged any ailment. The Chattel, prized property were also spared as their Master saw to their care. Unsurprisingly, they shared none of these remedies with the common Beastkin troops¡ªthere was only so much to go around, and a single battle hadn''t even been fought yet.


    The march had taken an unexpected turn, though we should have known better. It is the march, not the battle, that kills the majority of soldiers. Bad supply lines, poor weather, dysentery¡ªthese are expected. But a plague? No one foresaw that.


    By some fortune, I¡¯d avoided the illness so far, or at least was asymptomatic. I wasn¡¯t overly concerned about catching it myself since my Masters could simply heal me with an expensive potion. But the flu¡¯s rapid spread and severity of its symptoms gave me pause that it was anything like COVID-19 or the common flu from back home.


    Several men, either too sick or on the brink of death, had already been left behind. The flu had been bad enough back home, but this was far more virulent and severe. While Covid primarily claimed the elderly and those with pre-existing conditions, this illness was indiscriminate in its attack. Whispers circulated among the command that more soldiers would be abandoned if the situation didn¡¯t improve.


    At this pace, Thornhill was still a month away¡ªfar longer than the nine days Marshall Hadrelian had anticipated. We were supposed to resupply at the halfway point, near the ruins of Whisper Farm, which we had sacked not long ago. Our stores were expected to last until then¡ªat least, that¡¯s what we hoped.


    I had been scouting for fresh game for Hadrelian when I heard the cry. A soldier¡ªYhark-Gark, a frogman¡ªcalled for aid. Several scouts and soldiers rushed to his side, including Catus, one of the Eldrin officers. He rode forward on a brilliant white stallion, clad in supple leather armor and red-painted iron shoulder guards. His crossbow was drawn, loaded, and ready. Catus looked like a sleek fox, with his short, fiery hair and eyes that flickered with a dull orange.


    At the edge of the pond, two of our foragers lay slain. One was a gnoll with straw-colored fur, his face melted away as if by acid¡ªa sight that turned my stomach. The other had been stabbed repeatedly, blood still seeping from his neck into the mud.


    A sudden cry pierced the air¡ªan enormous dark blue corvid, as large as an eagle, wheeled above us. The soldiers murmured among themselves, fear seeping into their voices. A boarman who had somehow avoided the illness that plagued the beastkin bellowed in terror, "It heralds death!"


    Catus, his sharp gaze fixed on the bird, swiftly drew a card from his hand. With a flick of his wrist, he activated its power, raising his crossbow to take aim. But before he could line up the shot, the bird plunged into the trees, as swiftly as a meteor.


    "Damn bird," the Eldrin spat a Drakon curse under his breath, frustration evident. He turned to the rest of us, his tone commanding. "Get back to the line, all of you! Now!"


    As the soldiers resumed their march, a sudden sense washed over me, the instinct of a Ranger¡ªI was being watched. It was as if I had become the target, caught in the crosshairs of some unseen predator. I paused, an unsettling part of me almost hoping the stalker would end my life, but the collar around my neck compelled me to defend myself.


    I activated my legendary skill, Skogvander, summoning a card to transform my soul-bound bow. Its limbs snapped together, reshaping into a long sword. The threat was close¡ªI could feel it. I couldn¡¯t hear the rustle of a single leaf or catch their scent, but the weight of unseen eyes bore down on me, weighing me. Then, as suddenly as the threat had come, it vanished¡ªlike feeling the jaws of a tiger around my head, only for it to release me without a bite.


    I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath, and made my way back to the group.


    Even with my Tracking skills, I couldn¡¯t pinpoint where the Stalker had gone. I knew they were there, lurking in the shadows, but I couldn¡¯t detect a single footprint or a broken twig. One moment, they were right next to me, and the next, they were gone. They were everywhere and nowhere at once.


    By the end of the day, more bodies piled up. Two boar men, a frogmen, a rat, and another gnoll were found, each with mysterious puncture wounds and body parts blown apart by some unknown magic. It had gotten so bad that Drudus, Catus, and Zenon were sent to hunt down this elusive foe. Drudus and Hadrelian had set up wards around the camp to try to smoke the stalker out.


    In the camp, they had started calling the person the Stalker of the Azure Plains¡ªor simply, the Stalker. Hadrelian had offered a bounty of 10 Firsts or 10 Gold Marks to anyone who could shoot down the blue corvid seen every time a series of killings occurred.


    Around the Chattel campfire, we exchanged rumors about the mysterious figure. So far, the Stalker hadn¡¯t killed any of the Chattel, only soldiers who had wandered too far, scouring the surrounding valley and forest for food. I didn¡¯t mention that I had been one of those soldiers who foraged alone for Hadrelian, but so far, the stalker had spared me. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder why.


    Despite the rasping coughs and panicked whispers of the soldiers, I somehow managed to find sleep. But my rest was short-lived. I was awakened by the sound of war horns and bells¡ªan attack was imminent.


    It was the dead of night, but I could see flames in the distance. Soldiers scrambled, gathering buckets of dirt and water to stamp out the fire. The night watch had been slaughtered, five men all with wounds in their bodies torn away by bladed weapons or magic. Drudus and Hadrelian were there immediately, summoning magic to quell the flames. A thick mist had been summoned, blanketing the fire and drenching the men who came to throw their buckets into the raging blaze.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°I SEE THE BIRD!¡± someone shouted.


    Men scrambled for crossbows, aiming to take down the creature. But just as it appeared, it dove into the night, vanishing before they could load their weapons.


    The collar around my neck urged me to protect my masters, and soon, I found myself helping to put out the fires with the rest of the men.


    By the time the flames were extinguished, five of our wagons¡ªcarrying bolts, wine, and food¡ªwere reduced to ash. The others might have been salvaged, but the wagons carrying the sick had been ruined. As if to add insult to injury, the smoke from the fires caused the night to echo with harsh coughing.


    Not a single battle had been fought, and yet the Red Scythe¡¯s numbers were dwindling, picked off by an unseen force.


    I was summoned to the commander¡¯s camp in the morning, exhausted like every other soldier whose sleep had been interrupted by the task of fighting flames and putting the camp back together.


    Inside the camp, Drudus and Hadrelian were talking with Super, who lay on furs and silk pillows, casually eating grapes.


    ¡°Yo, I¡¯m telling you, cuz. It¡¯s the Chinese flu,¡± Super said, making a dramatic coughing gesture. ¡°It¡¯s from my planet.¡±


    Hadrelian nodded along, clearly understanding despite the odd phrasing, likely thanks to his Polyglot skills.


    ¡°Look who it is,¡± Super said, grinning and pointing at me as I entered the tent. ¡°I bet this Chinaman infected us all with it. He¡¯s a rat, Haddy. You can¡¯t trust ''em, bet.¡±


    ¡°Trust has nothing to do with it,¡± Hadrelian replied in accented English, his voice unsettling in its familiarity. ¡°The Ranger is Tethered. He must obey.¡±


    ¡°You summoned me?¡± I asked, forced to mask my frustration.


    ¡°Yes, you are to ride with my brother for a mission,¡± Hadrelian said calmly, his hands clasped in front of him.


    ¡°May I know the reason?¡± I asked. ¡°To better serve you.¡±


    ¡°We suspect a high-level rogue is stalking us. Or perhaps several,¡± Hadrelian explained, sipping his tea. ¡°We think it might be mercenaries trying to weaken us. We¡¯ll set a trap to flush them out.¡±


    ¡°So the rumors are true,¡± I muttered. ¡°Why not scry them with one of your abilities?¡± I glanced at both Drudus and Hadrelian, powerful mages who could normally deal with any covert agent or scout on sight.


    ¡°We¡¯ve tried, but they¡¯re too slippery. The stalker comes and goes like the wind, vanishing as quickly as they appear. Whoever they are, they¡¯re careful and have powerful cloaking abilities¡ªand they seem to have an uncanny sense for stragglers and the camp¡¯s position,¡± Drudus said, his jaw clenched.


    ¡°You¡¯ll lie in wait. Your long-range abilities will help spot them. Do what you do best, Cameron. Wait and hunt.¡±


    Let the Stalker destroy us all. Please, let them do it.


    ¡°I will do as you command, Master,¡± I said reluctantly.


    ¡°Your primary goal is to protect my brother,¡± Hadrelian added with a smile. ¡°I have no doubt he will come out victorious, but keep him safe, Cameron.¡±


    I nodded, though the doubt lingered. If a high mage was worried about this stalker, what could a Ranger like me possibly do to protect them? I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of being out of my depth. Still, I followed Drudus, and we both saddled up together on one of the highly prized White Highland Stallions¡ªgentle creatures owned and bred by the nobility of Auriel, cared for by their prized Animal Keeper Chattel. Strong, beautiful, marble-like beasts, clever and quick to adapt to any rider.


    The plan was simple. We¡¯d send a lone group¡ªsacrificial lambs¡ªto fetch water from an open pond. Vulnerable, alone, tempting. We suspected the stalker lurked in the dense forest to the south, launching attacks with ruthless precision. To counter this, Drudus protected the southern approach with wards and laid spells to mark the assailant the moment they moved in for the kill.


    Our ¡°lambs¡± were a rat, a boar, and a frog¡ªfresh recruits from Kronfeldt, each considered expendable. The boar was stammering, terrified at the thought of facing the stalker. But when Catus drew his sword, the sharp hiss of metal silenced any protests. One look at Catus¡¯s eyes and the boar swallowed his fear, obeying in grim silence.


    The trio moved toward the warded watering hole with hesitant steps, their backs straight but their nerves clearly frayed. From the north, we watched from our hilltop vantage. Catus, Zenon, and Drudus sat atop their white steeds, ready to give chase. I rode beside Drudus, gripping the back of his saddle as his horse pawed at the ground. Catus and I kept our eyes on the sky, searching for the telltale flash of the bluebird¡ªthe shape-shifted form of the Stalker the camp had whispered about. But the sky remained empty.


    "Got him," Drudus muttered, his voice a low rumble as he pointed to a patch of bushes where a glint of metal revealed a hidden figure. The weapon was aimed at the unsuspecting lambs, who were dunking their barrels into the water, now exposed.


    Without hesitation, Drudus drew a card from his deck and whispered an incantation. Blue chains of magic flared to life, wrapping the brush and trees like a net, trapping the Stalker. Another card followed, sending a concussive missile streaking through the air. It exploded with force but no intent to kill¡ªjust to stun. We needed him alive. Some questions needed answers.


    As soon as the magic struck, Zenon and Catus spurred their horses forward, charging down the northern hills toward the plains and the brush where their prey lay trapped. Drudus¡¯s horse followed, with me riding behind him to hold it back from the lone riders ahead.


    Catus leveled his crossbow at the figure, waiting as the smoke began to clear. There our target stood, mud-caked and motionless. The bronze uniform of the Red Scythe was half-buried beneath dark grime. The boarman, bound to a tree trunk, had his mouth stuffed with leaves. His arms were stretched out and tied, and the crossbow strapped to his wrists, aimed forward, hung limp in his dead grasp. Another set of glowing chains of light shimmered around him, binding the dead boar to a magical prison.


    Suddenly, from the forest¡¯s edge from high above, a green orb of sickly ooze shot past me and struck Catus''s horse. The beast whinnied in agony as it collapsed, dissolving under the vile ichor that spread over its skull. In moments, it died, leaving Catus sprawled, covered in dust and the horse¡¯s blood, fury burning in his eyes.


    Zenon immediately pressed forward toward the source of the projectile, expertly weaving between the trees. Suddenly, his horse was tripped by a rope anchored to a tree trunk and tied to a throwing knife. In an instant, two firebombs exploded with the shattering sound of breaking glass, engulfing both him and his horse in flames. The fire roared as horse and rider screamed in agony, thrashing and rolling desperately in a futile attempt to extinguish the blaze consuming them.


    Drudus and I trailed behind and dismounted. Upon seeing the carnage, Drudus reacted instantly, summoning one of his skill cards to retaliate. Before he could act, a beam of red energy scorched through the air, striking between him and the hidden attacker. The force hammered Drudus backward, his enchanted iron chestplate sizzling as it absorbed the brunt of the attack. Even so, the blast left him winded, gasping for breath, and likely bruising his ribs beneath the armor.


    As Drudus staggered, I drew my bow, activating Sniper¡¯s Shot, and aimed for the Stalker¡¯s legs. With my Ranger-enhanced vision, I caught sight of a tall, lean figure dressed in leather, a hood covering a cat''s face. They leaped from a tree branch and broke into a sprint, a long black cloak trailing behind them like a shadow billowing across the forestscape. My arrow flew true, weaving past branches and leaves to strike the back of their calf. My intention was to cripple, not kill. A distant grunt confirmed the hit, and I considered following up with another shot. But my priority wasn¡¯t to eliminate the Stalker¡ªit was to protect Drudus.


    Seeing Drudus in pain, I leaped from my horse and rummaged through the saddlebags for a healing potion. Without hesitation, I pressed it to his lips, though his face twisted in agony, his hands clutching his chest, which was likely bruised or broken.


    Meanwhile, Catus wasted no time. Covered in dust, blood streaking his face, he sprang to his feet, rage driving him forward. He deflected black iron missiles hurled from the trees with his buckler, then fired a bolt from his crossbow into the forest. The sharp clang of metal meeting metal echoed back as if the stalker had easily deflected the shot. In the distance with my long sight, I saw a shadowy rider disappearing into the trees, mounted on a black steed that moved like a phantom through the forest.


    ¡°You¡¯ll pay, Stalker,¡± Catus growled, venom in his voice. ¡°My familiar cost me a fortune. Don¡¯t think you won¡¯t pay.¡±


    The potion began working, softening Drudus¡¯s pained grimace. I stripped away his ruined chestplate, tossing it aside, and handed him a roll of bandages from the saddlebags. The healing was slow but effective. By the time the soldiers arrived to help, Zenon and his horse had turned to charcoal. The rest of us retreated toward the main camp.


    Orders swept through the camp¡ªno one was to wander alone. Catus, Varon, and I were soon sent to forage for supplies, but the strain weighed heavily on the men. More and more fell to the coughing sickness that spread like wildfire. Soon, our wagons were loaded with the ill and dying. As the number of able-bodied men dwindled, fewer ventured out to hunt or gather water. Our supplies were stretched thin, and morale shattered. If we didn¡¯t reach the sacked farm soon, more desertions would follow.


    Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, the Stalker struck again that night. Fires erupted throughout the camp, engulfing four more wagons. Somehow, despite rearranging our wagons, the Stalker had pinpointed our food stores and wine casks yet again. Our much-needed rest after the long day¡¯s march was shattered once again, having to put out the fires that jumped from one wagon to the rest.


    I wore the Binding Collar, bound to protect Hadrelian and Eldrins, my masters. But a part of me¡ªno, a part of all the tethered slaves in camp¡ªsecretly hoped the Stalker would bring down the Red Scythe. We didn''t want another farm, another group of humans harvested and enslaved.


    Before long, the humans in the camp were whispering their own name for this mysterious figure: The Magebane.

 Chapter 73

    Chapter 73


    Bianca


    Day 60 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 55


    From the hilltop overlooking Thornhill, I could see our defenses taking shape. They stretched from the beaches to the North Gate, where the drawbridge now spanned the unfilled moat.


    To the east, below the hill where I sat astride a well-rested Comet, Crag¡ªmy quarry golem¡ªheaved an enormous stone block to seal another pass leading into Thornhill. Walling off all the eastern and northeastern approaches beyond the dungeon was too ambitious, so instead, I planned to seal the dungeon itself on the day of the raid. That way, the raiders couldn¡¯t use it to level up or gather supplies.


    Crag¡¯s quarrying served two purposes: first, to build the foundation for our village¡¯s thick stone walls, and second, to gradually collapse part of another cliff, blocking yet another route into our village. The goal was to funnel the enemy toward the north along the river, so I had Crag working nonstop to extend a perimeter from the east to the northern gates.


    Meanwhile, Slate was chopping down trees for our next project¡ªtrebuchets. Anika, our herbalist, and Molvin, our carpenter, had designed them, and construction was already underway. We were assembling two trebuchets, and on the day of the siege, Anika would operate them with my two golems loading them with rocks, targeting the northern chokepoints from a hill that provided a vantage over most of Thornhill, one that I knew all too well.


    To the north, workers dug nearly half a mile of trenches, including Alex and Cade, who handled most of the heavy lifting thanks to their warrior classes. After quick morning dungeon runs, they gained two levels before reaching the Jester Store to purchase equipment and weapons for the villagers. They worked tirelessly throughout the day. As late spring arrived, bringing warmer midday temperatures, they stripped down to their bare essentials, their chiseled forms a testament to their class enhancements.


    Elsewhere, the blacksmiths worked on crafting iron axles, bolts, and pivots for the trebuchets, along with copper and iron arrowheads. Meanwhile, less able-bodied citizens focused on fletching the arrowheads into arrows and bolts. Workers rotated between resting, practicing archery at the ranges, and producing essential supplies like rope, which we¡¯d need for the trebuchets. While the initial sense of urgency had driven everyone to work tirelessly, complacency had begun to creep in as the days stretched on. I had to remain vigilant, constantly reminding everyone of the pirate attack and the hard lessons we had learned. Yet, without the enemy at our doorstep, the villagers seemed to grow complacent, lulled into a false sense of security by their comfort.


    In the evenings, everyone except Slate and Crag rested, gathering in the mess hall for fresh bread and fish stew. The expanded council met during dinner at a fine oak table Molvin had made. New chairs were in progress, though production had paused as Molvin and the rest of us focused on defense.


    ¡°How¡¯s morale?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not great,¡± Ethan sighed. ¡°People are tired, and they want to know exactly when it¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll extend breaks and give people more rest. Crag¡¯s nearly finished on the east side, so he can start digging the rest of the moat. All that¡¯s left is to build the trebuchets and make more bolts.¡±


    ¡°Samar says she¡¯ll be ready for another harvest soon. We¡¯ll need everyone for the harvest. Potatoes¡­ and wheat.¡± Anika said, her mouth full of bread which she dunked into an egg yolk.


    "On the day of the harvest, I think we should have a small celebration," I said. "Give everyone a chance to rest after the work is done."


    "Are you sure?" Anika asked, raising an eyebrow. "With a raid on the horizon, it might not be the best time to slow down."


    I let out a sigh. "People need to remember that what they¡¯re defending is worth it. And¡­ we can¡¯t squeeze much more out of them right now."


    I glanced around the mess hall. The villagers were barely touching their food, their faces pale with exhaustion. Most of them were probably running on too few calories, their bodies aching from days of labor. Unlike me, they didn¡¯t have the advantage of a class to offset the strain. They needed a break.


    "And how are our new residents?" I asked, shifting my gaze to the three former slaves sitting off to the side. Cass was with them, trying to draw them into conversation, but they still seemed isolated.


    ¡°We can¡¯t speak their language. They have some basic English down but since Sophie and Orion left, we don¡¯t have a translator.¡± Anika replied.


    ¡°Those guys¡­¡± I sighed.


    I really wish you were here right now Rye and Sophie. I need help.


    ¡°I tried to get the new residents to stop working and relax. It feels so wrong making former slaves work for us right away after all they¡¯ve been through,¡± Ethan frowned. ¡°But they seem insistent on helping us.¡±


    ¡°Did you teach them how to use their coins?¡± I asked.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t stupid, Bianca. They know how to use money but they don¡¯t appear to want for much besides the free food at the mess hall.¡± Anika answered.


    Hopefully that changes. It kind of sucks they aren¡¯t seeing us at our best right now. Out of slavery and into a sweatshop.


    When James returned, I would have to remind him to teach me this world¡¯s language too. If we were going to take on new residents from this world and deal with the outside world, I needed to know how to communicate with them.


    Larry and his wife had finally received the okay from Ethan to leave quarantine, and Father Gallagher would be joining them soon. Once Larry returned, he and Liz compiled a new report on our inventory. The rest of the meeting focused on inventory updates prepared by our warehouse managers. The new trade expedition parchments proved helpful as I looked over the tally of our stock of arrows, bows, and crossbows.


    14 Crossbows


    13 Longbows


    647 Bolts


    701 Arrows


    It still wasn¡¯t enough. We needed more crossbows since most people here didn¡¯t have the strength to use bows effectively. We also needed a massive stockpile of ammunition. I was aiming for at least 1,000 arrows and bolts or 200 ammunition per person, so I could only hope Sophie would come through and return soon with the supplies to fill the gap.


    Still, they were working hard. I was proud of the village for accomplishing so much in such a short time, and I knew they deserved a reward. There was only so much I could push them before their spirits shattered like glass.


    After our meeting, I sought out various members of the village with my idea for tomorrow¡¯s harvest, and we made our preparations.


    I hatched a plan for some festivities to lift the spirits of the group. The most challenging task ahead of me was creating a soccer ball. Fortunately, the tanning and preparing of animal leather and organs was something we had been doing since nearly the beginning of our landing here.


    After placing orders for leather pieces, a boar bladder, and a long narrow tube to be crafted by the blacksmith, we stitched together a leather ball. Surprisingly, it was Ethan who finished the ball, as his stitching and leatherworking skills proved the best among us.


    The next day, I rode off with Cass on Comet while assigning most of the workers to assist with Samar¡¯s harvest. Comet had grown to an impressive size, perhaps as big as Rudolph, resembling a moose. Cass held on as we navigated through the forest in search of fowl. The elk were surprisingly swift, and Astrid¡¯s tamed elk outpaced the wild ones with astonishing speed.


    Cass selected a spot where he and Orion typically hunted the scarlet fowl, and together we tagged as many as we could with my bow and his sling. Cass loaded tiny pebbles into his improved sling, striking the red birds in the head with remarkable accuracy.


    We made two trips, returning with dozens of bird carcasses. In the mess hall kitchens, I assisted Vesper and Gladys, the two cooks, in breading and frying the fowl, while other helpers worked alongside us. We used the discarded bones, heads, and feet to create a rich ramen broth. So Thornhill would feast on fried chicken¡ªor rather, fried scarlet fowl¡ªfor lunch, followed by chicken ramen for dinner.


    At the long table that Molvin built, we laid out platters of fried chicken, dinner rolls drizzled with honey, enormous bowls of mashed potatoes, and gravy boats beside them, accompanied by a bowl of coleslaw made with mustard greens.


    One byproduct of our wine-making was vinegar, which we used to dress the coleslaw, enhancing its flavor.


    People received an early day off and gathered around. Barrels of chilled, watered-down wine and fruit juice were scattered about, reminding me of our first mini-harvest festival when the town splurged to deplete Father Gallagher¡¯s stores of alcohol and the warehouses filled with flour and berries.


    After lunch, we gathered in an open field near the farms to set up the goals. Using four sturdy logs for uprights and two longer ones for crossbars, we dug shallow holes to anchor them. Rope secured the crossbars tightly, creating simple but functional goals for our match.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The older and younger villagers who couldn¡¯t play sat out, watching with keen interest as we formed teams of eleven. I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of picking captains and teams, so we resorted to the old lottery system.


    It turned out to be a flawed choice, as the teams ended up lopsided with Alex and Cade and most of the veteran dungeon divers on one side.


    Father Gallagher, a devoted fan of soccer or football, as he passionately corrected us¡ªdecided to referee the match, embarking on one of his familiar rants about how Americans misnamed the sport.


    Our teams were as follows:


    <table style="border-style: solid" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td width="50%">


    Thornhill United


    Jesus (blacksmith)


    Aiden(dungeon runner)¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªAstrid (animal keeper)


    Bianca(me) ¡ª¡ªGabriel (singer)¡ª-Peter (Marek¡¯s son)


    Sorelle(fisher)¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªAnika(herbalist)


    Malik (woodburner)¡ªMichael(roadworker)


    Marek (builder)


    </td>


    <td width="50%">


    Thornhill FC


    Alex (hero)


    Sasha (dungeon)¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª-¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªCass


    Bart(blacksmith)¡ª¡ªJoshua(brewer helper)¡ªVesper (cook)


    Julian(Marek¡¯s son)¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ªLiz(warehouse helper)


    Andy (builder)¡ª¡ªMolvin(carpenter)


    Cade (Guard)


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Over twenty-five spectators lined the sidelines, eagerly watching the inaugural match between Thornhill United, my team, and Thornhill FC, led by Alex. Doubt crept in as I glanced at their side. The crowd shared my unease, placing small bets on us while heavily favoring their stacked team.


    As I stepped forward for the coin toss, I exchanged a confident smile with Alex.


    ¡°Good luck,¡± he said, his grin brimming with that all-too-familiar cockiness.


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep it clean,¡± Father Gallagher interjected, his usual warmth replaced by a stern demeanor. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to get any injuries before the siege, friends. Bianca, call it.¡±


    ¡°Heads,¡± I declared, steeling myself.


    Father Gallagher tossed the coin, and it landed heads up.


    ¡°You can have first possession,¡± I announced to Alex.


    ¡°We won¡¯t go easy on you, Bianca,¡± Sasha chimed in, her tone sharp and playful as Alex took the ball.


    With a swift kick, Sasha sent a backheel pass to Bart. The trio¡ªSasha, Alex, and Bart¡ªstormed through our defense like a freight train. Their synergy, honed through countless dungeon runs, allowed them to communicate with just glances.


    They reached our box, and Bart launched a high cross that looked like it would sail into the ocean. Against all odds, Alex leaped higher than I thought possible, heading the ball toward our goal. Marek, our keeper, managed a painful save, gritting his teeth as he deflected the shot right in front of him.


    Unfazed, Marek dribbled out of his box, someone clearly comfortable playing soccer, leaving his goal unguarded as he advanced upfield. Near the halfway line, he unleashed a powerful shot toward their goal. Cade, their keeper, managed to punch it away, but Astrid and Jesus were ready for the rebound. Jesus faked a shot, causing Cade to commit, then passed to a sprinting Astrid, who easily slotted the ball into the open net.


    Astrid and Jesus erupted into wild celebration as the few in the cheering crowd who¡¯d bet on us went nuts. I was so delighted to see Wulfric and Ulf, among those who were captivated by the match, already becoming fans of the most popular sport on Earth. On the sidelines, Aja paced and barked with excitement, a proud mother watching her pup succeed.


    But Father Gallagher raised his hand, his expression stern.


    ¡°Offside! No goal! Nil-Nil. Thornhill FC¡¯s ball!¡±


    ¡°What the heck kinda stupid rule is offside?!¡± Astrid protested, hands on her hips. ¡°This is bullcrap, ref! Get your eyes checked!¡±


    Unperturbed, Father Gallagher plucked a dandelion from the ground and offered it to her.


    ¡°Yellow card, Astrid!¡±


    ¡°Yo, B, you seeing this? The ref¡¯s paid off,¡± Jesus said, glancing at me with a mix of disbelief and amusement.


    I laughed. ¡°It¡¯s just a game.¡±


    ¡°Hell no, B. I bet five coppers against Bart,¡± Jesus shot back. ¡°We¡¯re not losing to the fake Thornhill team!¡±


    ¡°Calm down, bro,¡± Bart smirked. ¡°Let them have the goal. They¡¯ll need all the help they can get.¡±


    ¡°Nobody¡¯s getting any free goals!¡± Father Gallagher barked. ¡°The beautiful game is sacred. Nil-nil, FC¡¯s ball. Any more time-wasting and I¡¯m booking another person!¡±


    Astrid shook her head angrily and Jesus and Bart continued bickering before they both got booked. The game continued.


    Despite everything, the match was closer than I expected. What stood out most was the natural fitness advantage of the Holders. While many of the classless had to sub out for fresh legs or give others a chance to play, the Holders played the entire match without issue. I¡¯d never thought of myself as athletic, but even I could launch the ball with surprising power. The higher-level players, like Alex and Astrid, were incredible¡ªthey barely broke a sweat, leaped higher, and ran faster than anyone else.


    The match accomplished two things: it provided the villagers with some much-needed entertainment and sport, and it gave them hope, showing that with people like these on our side, we could stand against overwhelming odds.


    Afterward, many of us went for a swim¡ª the men headed north to the river while the women went south to the beach. I made a mental note to designate the beach as a recreational area and relocate the smokehouse further down the coast, ensuring Thornhill¡¯s residents could enjoy a private retreat on these beautiful sands and clear waters.


    Dinner that evening was scarlet fowl noodle soup. The springy noodles, made from Samarian wheat and Astridian eggs, were served in bowls I had crafted myself, and eaten in the mess hall Marek and the builders had recently completed.


    During dinner, Gabriel, our musician, serenaded us. He had received a guitar from the last trade expedition and was tuning it as we ate. Sitting near the front of the mess hall, he parted his long, curly hair from his face and strummed a few lilting notes. Then his tenor voice rose, clear as a bell ringing through the quiet night.


    ? ¡°In the deep dark hills of eastern Kentucky¡­¡± ?


    It was a haunting rendition of You¡¯ll Never Leave Harlan Alive. The villagers sat spellbound, their meals and conversations forgotten. When Gabriel sang the last, mournful lines, silence hung heavy in the hall. A few claps broke the stillness, but most of the response came from the sounds of the night¡ªdistant bird calls and the mournful howls of wolves.


    ¡°Bit of a downer, isn¡¯t it?¡± Gabriel said with a faint frown.


    No, it wasn¡¯t. It was beautiful¡ªso beautiful it left me struggling to speak. The song seemed to capture the struggle of life in a place where survival wasn¡¯t guaranteed. It haunted us, a stark reminder of our mortality and our deep connection to this land. For some, it even stirred memories of the lands we had left behind.


    Gabriel¡¯s expression brightened as he adjusted the guitar in his lap. ¡°How about this next one? Join in if you know the lyrics.¡±


    He winked, then started strumming a new melody, one that felt instantly familiar.


    ? ¡°Sometimes in our lives¡­¡± ?


    As soon as the first lines rang out, a few voices joined him hesitantly. Soon, more followed, until the hall was filled with a chorus. Those who knew the lyrics sang confidently, while others hummed along. Gabriel guided us through Lean On Me, seamlessly blending the refrain into a joyful chant of "Call me!" and back to the chorus again and again. The transitions felt so natural that time seemed to stand still; before we knew it, thirty minutes had passed before we finally stopped and clapped.


    When the plates were cleared, I wanted to check my Founder card.


    Congratulations!


    New Morale Milestone Reached


    Deed System Unlocked


    As a Founder, you can issue deeds to your citizens to assign them land rights in your town. You can also assign mayors who can issue deeds if you expand your holdings.


    Another system to deal with. I set the idea of assigning deeds aside for now¡ªthere was too much to prepare for the upcoming raid. The thought of dividing land, and sitting through endless meetings about who got what made my stomach churn. Still, it was an intriguing system, and I wanted to test it.


    While others returned to the mess hall to relax and listen to more of Gabriel¡¯s music, I made my way to the soccer field. The church loomed nearby, and beyond it lay our small cemetery, the graves marked by wooden crosses and clusters of wildflowers.


    Pulling out a Deed card, I focused on the field, picturing its borders clearly in my mind. Soft blue lines appeared in the air, tracing the boundaries exactly as I envisioned them


    .


    Deed Created ¨C Unnamed Field


    50x100


    Owner: Unassigned


    I stared at the glowing lines, the cemetery catching my eye in the background. It gave me an idea for a name.


    Deed Updated ¨C Memorial Field


    50x100


    Owner: Public


    If heaven existed¡ªor if spirits lingered here, and in this world, who could say they didn¡¯t¡ªI hoped those we had lost could find peace watching over us. This field would be a place of joy, where children could play, adults could cheer, and life could be about more than just survival and battle.


    The fallen will watch us thrive. They will know that their sacrifices were worth it.

 Chapter 74

    Chapter 74


    Sophie


    Day 62 of First Landing


    Kronfeldt


    ¡°Surely you¡¯ve got something, a lead, a company. What happened to the last of the Ironclad?¡± I asked, fixing my gaze on the scarred feline warrior. Bronzeclaw, a weathered relic of his glory days, shifted under my scrutiny despite towering over me by nearly two feet.


    ¡°They¡¯ve scattered,¡± he said, his gravelly voice edged with resignation. ¡°Some signed on with other bands, others headed north. A few drifted to Havenreach, chasing softer coin as pirates or bounty hunters.¡±


    ¡°I need cavalry. I¡¯m not asking for an entire army. Even thirty good men will do,¡± I said, adjusting my bunny mask, irritation simmering as I scanned the square. Where was she?


    ¡°Cavalry?¡± Bronzeclaw snorted, crossing his arms. ¡°You¡¯ll need a guild sponsor to muster a new company. That¡¯s no simple feat. Why not hire a few haulers down at the docks and call it done?¡±


    ¡°Because you could do it,¡± I countered, my patience wearing thin.


    ¡°I¡¯m out,¡± he growled, the words slow and deliberate. ¡°Done with blood and iron. And I¡¯ll not tangle with Eldrin magic. I¡¯m tired, woman.¡±


    ¡°Is that so? You want vengeance for your brothers, don¡¯t you? Fight for me, and I¡¯ll help you destroy the Red Scythe.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too much. I¡¯m just one man,¡± he protested, shaking his head as if to banish the idea.


    Before he could refuse again, the sound of wheels on cobblestone drew our attention. A lavish carriage pulled by a chestnut mare glided to a halt before the guildhall, driven by a sleek, gray-furred fox draped in sumptuous black robes. The driver dismounted with practiced elegance and swung open the gilded doors.


    She stepped out, her presence commanding and enigmatic. Draped in flowing purple silk robes embroidered with silver, the woman wore an exquisite ivory fox mask, its delicate features both alluring and intimidating.


    Right on time.


    ¡°T-the White Fox,¡± Bronzeclaw stammered, bowing low enough to look awkward despite his size. ¡°My lady, what brings you to the Mercenary Guild?¡±


    The White Fox extended a silk-gloved hand, her movements graceful yet calculated. The mercenary bent low, kissing the back of her fingers as though he feared doing otherwise.


    ¡°Is there a problem here, Lois?¡± Her voice was crisp, imperious¡ªa blade cloaked in velvet. ¡°Have you failed to secure a contract?¡±


    ¡°My lady, this man claims there are no mercenaries available for your generous offer,¡± I said timidly, bowing repeatedly in apology.


    ¡°Did he, now?¡± Her judgment settled over him, her annoyance palpable.


    ¡°I was explaining to your assistant that¡­ we simply do not have the men available.¡±


    "Spread the word to every blade-for-hire: I am prepared to offer ten shares in the East India Trading Company to any soldier who enters my service¡ªand another ten upon the completion of a year¡¯s contract." The White Fox¡¯s voice rose, cutting through the murmurs of the hall like steel. "Your task is simple: rid the countryside of troglodytes and raiders encroaching on my interests. Surely, even mercenaries can manage that? Or has the quality of this guild fallen so far?"


    ¡°Bronzeclaw here says only a senior member can establish a new mercenary company,¡± I suggested, leaning back, watching the game unfold.


    ¡°Is that so? Captain, I¡¯ll offer you double the shares if you lead this new company,¡± she declared, her gaze sharp on the old veteran.


    ¡°I¡¯m no captain, Mistress¡­ just a quartermaster¡­ I cannot,¡± Bronzeclaw¡¯s stammer betrayed his rising panic.


    ¡°Bronzeclaw, Bronzeclaw¡­ hmmm¡­¡± The White Fox mused aloud, her tone laced with mockery. ¡°If I recall correctly, you were quite the soldier of legend. They used to call you the Lion of the Ironclad, did they not? Perhaps we should call you the Kitten of the Ledgers from now on.¡±


    Her words hung in the air like a challenge. Bronzeclaw¡¯s scarred face darkened, his golden eyes narrowing dangerously. Straightening to his full height, he glared at her.


    ¡°A coward? Fine then. I will not have cowards in my company. You can stick to your ledgers while I hire a real leader,¡± she sneered, her words cutting deep.


    As Bronzeclaw¡¯s pride flared, her barbed words struck a nerve. The promise of shares tempted several ambitious sellswords to step forward, eager to cast aside their current contracts for a shot at leadership. But before anyone could speak, Bronzeclaw found his resolve.


    ¡°Fine then. I¡¯ll do it, Mistress,¡± he declared, his voice steady and firm. ¡°You¡¯ll find no better suitor for the role than me. I¡¯ve served my former company for ten years, and I¡¯ve earned this.¡±


    Gone was the uncertainty from moments before¡ªBronzeclaw stood ready, determined to reclaim the respect he once commanded.


    ¡°Do I have your loyalty?¡± The White Fox¡¯s asked of the feline warrior.


    ¡°My loyalty is to the guild, Mistress.¡±


    ¡°And in all matters outside the guild, do I have your loyalty?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mistress.¡± He nodded.


    ¡°Good. Lois, prepare the contracts for any men joining this new company. We¡¯ll call it the White Fang Legion.¡± The White Fox shot a glance in my direction, and I pulled out my Contract card, ready to finalize the agreements.


    <hr>


    White Fang Legion Mercenary Contract


    Duration: 1 Year


    Parties:


    This agreement is between White Fang Legion and [_______ ]


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">1. Term & Duties:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">The Employee will serve as a mercenary under the White Fang Legion for 1 year, starting on [_____] and ending on [_______].</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">Duties include combat, protection, and any tasks assigned by The Company.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">2. Compensation:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">Payment of 10 Shares in The East India Trading Company after completion of training (1-month probationary period), 10 Shares After Honorable Discharge</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">An additional payment of 10 Thirds per Month is to be paid to each member past their 1-month probationary period. Bonuses for high-risk missions and exceptional performance.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">3. Confidentiality:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">All sensitive information related to The Company, its clients, or its operations to outsiders is confidential even upon dishonorable discharge


    </li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">The Employee agrees to maintain confidentiality for 10 years after the contract ends.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">4. Non-Compete & Loyalty:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">The Employee will not work for competitors or engage in conflicting operations during the contract term.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">All Company interests take priority over external conflicts.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">5. Conduct:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">Honor and professionalism are required to maintain the image of the White Fox and its interests. Dishonorable actions will lead to immediate termination without pay.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">6. Termination:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">The Company may terminate the contract for breaches or misconduct.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">The Employee may resign with 30 days'' notice but forfeits any bonuses or benefits.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">7. Injury & Death:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0 0">Medical care is provided for on-duty injuries.</li>


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 0 0 12px">A death gratuity of 10 Shares will be paid to the Employee''s beneficiary.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">8. Equipment:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">The Company provides standard equipment. Personal gear may be used with approval. Damages caused by negligence may result in deductions from pay.</li>


    </ul>


    <h3 style="text-indent: 0; margin: 14px 0 12px">9. Dispute Resolution:


    <ul style="margin: 0">


    <li style="text-indent: 18px; margin: 12px 0">Any disputes will be resolved through arbitration under [Jurisdiction].</li>


    </ul>


    Signatures


    Employee: ___________________


    Date: _______________


    Beneficiary


    ________________________


    ________________________


    For White Fang Legion: ___________________


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.Date: _______________


    <hr>


    It was a total chore getting them to sign one by one, as most couldn¡¯t even read the Void Script it was translated into. Their new commander, Bronzeclaw, had to recite it for them before they could agree to sign.


    In total, the new company successfully signed twenty-five recruits. Not only would they serve as a personal guard for the White Fox¡¯s interests, but they were also tasked with patrolling the Southern Crown Duchy¡ªwhere Thornhill was located¡ªkeeping an eye out for potential disturbances along the southern road that led to Thornhill''s trading post currently under construction. Bronzeclaw took charge, overseeing the initiation ceremonies, while we provided the company with a modest sum to purchase any additional horses they couldn¡¯t supply themselves. This was to be a cavalry company.


    ¡°Have your men ready to ride out within three days,¡± The White Fox ordered the men who lined up and saluted her. ¡°Prepare to ride south when I give the command.¡±


    Twenty-five riders against maybe five hundred raiders? Not ideal. I didn¡¯t expect this company to bear the brunt of the fighting; I had to rely on Thornhill and Orion to handle the bulk of the killing, while we came in from behind to clean up the deserters and the defenseless like the archers. It was paramount that none of these raiders escaped, as per Orion¡¯s explicit instructions.


    After concluding our business with the mercenary company, I joined the White Fox in her carriage as we returned to the East India Company headquarters.


    ¡°I apologize for my earlier impertinence, my lady,¡± the ¡°White Fox¡± said, watching her shift from her imperious demeanor to her natural, bookish grace¡ªthe side of her I¡¯d first noticed.


    ¡°Relax. You¡¯re doing great. Eventually, I¡¯ll have to bring in another intermediary, and you¡¯ll need to treat her just the same.¡± I sighed, collapsing back against the plush leather seating. ¡°How are the supplies coming along?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve secured ten more crossbows and about 300 bolts and arrows, my lady. By tomorrow, the Smith Guild assures us they can provide another 200 bolts and arrows. I have to apologize as the Smiths find it difficult to keep up with the demand for crossbows.¡±


    That would bring our total to a thousand bolts and arrows in total. Not bad for such on such short notice.


    ¡°More importantly, there¡¯s big news from the mines. They¡¯ve struck a major gold vein in the Northwest mines. It¡¯s significant,¡± The White Fox gushed.


    ¡°Interesting. With the profit from that, buy up every piece of land and property we can with our free funds,¡± I instructed.


    ¡°May I ask why you acquired all those wagons, buckets, and that new property on Queen''s Way?¡± she asked, about a previous order I issued to several runners.


    ¡°I¡¯m creating a firefighting company. That pier with its shacks and homeless is such an eyesore, don¡¯t you think? Ruins the property value of the surrounding storefronts. It¡¯d be nice if someone were to take care of it,¡± I smiled, envisioning the transformation.


    ¡°Are you sure about that? Those poor souls will¡­ need homes.¡± The White Fox said quietly, unsure.


    Sigh. Moralists.


    ¡°There are plenty of empty buildings they can squat in. I can¡¯t have merchants and traders visit the docks and see all that¡­ refuse. It leaves a terrible impression. Bad for business.¡± I said, crossing my arms as if I didn¡¯t want to talk or think about it anymore.


    ¡°I see¡­ is there anything else?¡±


    ¡°My partner has asked me to check on two kittens that worked at one of the popular food stalls. Nax and Fleetpaw. They have a shack at the docks. Make sure they have proper lodgings and offer them jobs as my new runners.¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see it done, my lady.¡±


    Back at the White Fox Exchange & Loans, painters were busy applying a fresh coat of white paint to the bricks. Masons were moving in ionic pillars, and a new iron door, guarded by two boar sentinels, was being installed at the front. Our little empire in Kronfeldt was expanding, but I needed to stay one step ahead of the growing attention.


    As the construction crew bowed towards the White Fox, my guards showed me more deference, a fact I noted with a slight frown. I¡¯d need to address that.


    Inside, the place was being fitted with granite tiles, and in one of the rooms, two tan leather chairs sat by an ebony table. A red fox¡ªmaskless, just a simple male fox¡ªbank employee was in conversation with a client. From my vantage point, I could see the client¡¯s long black ponytail as he explained something to my fox employee, looking utterly flabbergasted.


    ¡°Oh, there she is,¡± the client said, his smarmy expression amplified by a thin-oiled mustache. His wide-set eyes and pointed ears marked him as Halfrin. What struck me was his resemblance to someone of note... Mayor Kaelan, the Mayor of Kronfeldt.


    ¡°White Fox, listen here. Your employee won¡¯t give me another loan,¡± the Halfrin said, thrusting a loan contract into the White Fox¡¯s hands. I quickly glanced it over. ¡°This nitwit says I can only take out a loan of 100 Firsts.¡±


    The employee, Jansen¡ªa red fox I¡¯d poached from another bank¡ªbowed apologetically toward me. Once again, I¡¯d have to remind the staff to show consideration to the real White Fox, not me.


    ¡°Mr. Kaeven, you¡¯ve already taken out a loan of 100 Firsts from our company. We cannot extend your line of credit any further. It is our policy,¡± the White Fox responded, her tone flat, like the kind a manager uses when dealing with an upset Karen.


    ¡°This is ridiculous! I¡¯m the mayor¡¯s son! When I get my allowance and when the Dealer¡¯s favor shines on me, I¡¯ll have your money back,¡± Kaeven said, his entitlement mixing with desperation. ¡°I just need a little coin to get a few lenders off my back and¡ª¡±


    ¡°I believe I can make some arrangements with this young man,¡± I interrupted.


    Both Jansen and Sable, the current White Fox, paused and stared at each other before turning to Kaeven with pity as I stepped in.


    We moved into Jansen¡¯s office, where he offered me the seat and stood at my side. The White Fox had other clients to attend to, so I pulled out a Contract and began scribbling the terms. I could do this on autopilot now.


    ¡°Jansen, fetch 100 Firsts for this young man while we discuss business,¡± I said.


    ¡°Right away... Miss Lois,¡± Jansen replied, bowing before quickly leaving the room.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the White Fox? I¡¯d rather deal with her,¡± Kaeven asked, gritting his teeth at the indignity as if he was used to receiving Daddy Mayor and his servant''s attention his entire life.


    ¡°Your credit¡¯s no good with the White Fox, Mr. Kaeven. You¡¯re too much of a risk. I am in charge of the¡­ high-risk loan department,¡± I smiled, watching him squirm.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m good for it! Dealer¡¯s balls. My father is the mayor! Just wait¡ªmy luck will turn around at the high table,¡± he said, leaning forward in desperation. ¡°I just need a little more breathing room.¡±


    ¡°Do you own any businesses or property, Mr. Kaeven?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not much, but I¡¯m in line to become mayor. I¡¯ll have the town¡¯s coffers at my disposal soon enough.¡±


    Unlikely. As much as I¡¯d love to rob this town blind, I couldn¡¯t let a gambling addict like Kaeven take the mayor''s seat in Kronfeldt. For Thornhill to grow strong, Kronfeldt needed to thrive as well. It can¡¯t have an incompetent gambling addict deplete the town¡¯s coffers in a throw of a die. Or¡­ maybe we can use him as a puppet. It¡¯ll just depend on how much I can pull his strings and keep him in check.


    ¡°Then here¡¯s the deal¡ªyou¡¯ll act as an informant for us. You¡¯ll keep us in the loop on the mayor¡¯s dealings and anything related to the White Fox¡¯s interests. I¡¯ll lend you the money, but you¡¯ll report back to me as a¡­ freelance employee working off your debt. Understand?¡± I asked, tapping my fingers on the desk.


    ¡°B-but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± I leaned in, my voice dropping all its pretense of civility, ¡°I could sell your remaining debt to the Silver Tally in Black Bay. I hear they¡¯re quite... efficient at recovering losses.¡±


    ¡°This is extortion,¡± Kaeven muttered, his face pale. ¡°I¡¯m the mayor¡¯s son.¡±


    He sounded like a parrot. I¡¯m the mayor¡¯s son, I¡¯m the mayor¡¯s son. Ugh.


    ¡°It¡¯s not extortion, it¡¯s business. You¡¯re in debt, and I¡¯m offering you a way out.¡± I smiled, returning to the good guy routine.


    A thick silence hung in the air as I slid a Contract card toward him.


    ¡°This interest rate is... usury!¡± Kaeven protested as he skimmed the contract.


    ¡°How many lenders did you go to before you came to me, Kaeven? You said it yourself¡ªyour luck will turn around. And if it doesn¡¯t... well, there¡¯s already a clause that lets you pay off the interest through other means. No arms or legs required,¡± I chuckled softly.


    Kaeven flinched as my laughter broke the tense atmosphere.


    Just then, Jansen returned, carrying a bag of Firsts. He counted out the coins as Kaeven watched greedily, licking his lips. After breathing heavily for a moment, Kaeven finally signed the contract, and I tucked the card away into my palms. Just one of many debts I was waiting to collect.


    ¡°End of the week, I¡¯ll be back,¡± Kaeven muttered, pocketing the coins before leaving.


    Jansen shook his head, looking concerned. ¡°That could be trouble, Miss Lois. He¡¯s not likely to pay, and he is the mayor¡¯s son.¡±


    ¡°I know guys like him. He¡¯s too proud to go to his father, and he¡¯s running from debtors all over town. I¡¯m the only oasis he has left.¡± I smiled. ¡°Speaking of debts... it¡¯s almost the end of the week, Jansen. Tell Stonefist and Manox to start collecting what¡¯s owed.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Miss Lois,¡± Jansen replied.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want them to break any bones or cut off any fingers, got it? Threaten their family, harass, and hurt them, but don¡¯t cripple them. Can¡¯t exactly pay off their debt when they can¡¯t work now, can they? Have them sign over their deeds or take any holdings or property as interest. Jewelry, furniture, livestock, yada yada yada.¡±


    I yawned, stretching out again.


    ¡°Of course, Miss Lois.¡±


    ¡°And have Sable lock up early¡ªyou both deserve it.¡±


    ¡°Will you be in tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet. I¡¯m waiting for a message. If I¡¯m not, make sure to stop all sales of East India and this company¡¯s shares. We¡¯ve spread enough ownership among the nobility. I don¡¯t want to give away too much control.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡±


    I stretched as I rose from the comfortable leather chair. After checking in on Hanseatic Limited, the company managing our shipments to Thornhill, I retired to an inn. It wasn¡¯t overly lavish, though it was a slight upgrade from the old one, complete with a marble tub, spermaceti candles, and myrrh incense. A plate of freshly shucked oysters paired with white wine awaited me. A girl¡¯s gotta spoil herself once in a while, and I figured I deserved a little indulgence, so I dipped into my commission for the treat.


    The next day, while strolling through the food stalls, a bird¡¯s cry echoed behind me. Looking up, I spotted a blue bird circling above the city. I waved it down but realized it probably didn¡¯t recognize me with my bunny mask on. Finding a secluded spot, I removed the mask and caught its attention. The bird landed on my shoulder, pecking gently at my hand for a treat as I patted its head.


    A note was tied to its leg. I untied it and read the message:


    ¡°Raiders near Thornhill


    5/6 days away


    - Rye.¡±


    I smiled, surprised at my relief to find out that he was fine. Warning that idiot about his fate seemed to have only pushed him toward it. I suppose some people were just determined to cling to their martyr complexes. Not for me.


    Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a charcoal pencil and began scribbling a reply on the back.


    ¡°Back@Hill in 3


    with supplies&men


    - soph ? ¡±


    JD, Rye¡¯s bird, didn¡¯t hesitate. As soon as I tied the note back to his leg, he took off, wings beating swiftly as he disappeared into the sky, eager to return to his master.


    With word sent back to the White Fox and the White Fang Legion for their instructions in my absence, I made my final preparations to leave. My Portable Wagon was packed to the brim with supplies and other essentials, and with another level notched on my Merchant class, I was ready. It was time to head back to Thornhill to prepare for a siege.

 Chapter 75

    Chapter 75


    Orion


    Day 63 of First Landing


    Wenvale Pass


    Five days. That¡¯s how long Thornhill had to shore up its defenses. I was two days south of Kronfeldt, a half-hour from the farm where the Red Scythe camped. The news from Sophie, via JD, hadn¡¯t come yet. Until it did, I could only wait and think about my next move to hinder the Red Scythe¡¯s march.


    JD had likely reached Kronfeldt by now, as I had sent him with word from James the day before. My familiar had flown by fifty raiders recruited in Kronfeldt to reinforce the main army led by one Eldrin. While I waited for my familiar to return, I rested and took stock of my inventory.


    I moved through the dark, reaching my stash cave. Inside, I grabbed what I needed¡ªa few clay Molotovs, bottles of alcohol, and poison. The plan was simple: stir up more trouble before they got reinforcements. The Red Scythe were tightening their marching formation. No more wandering stragglers. They scavenged in large groups of twenty now, led by one of the Eldrin and the human archer. Many raiders had died since they reached the farm¡ªsome to illness, some to desertion (which I dispatched), others to my ambushes. But tonight, fresh recruits would arrive, and by tomorrow, they¡¯d march south, fully stocked with fresh casks of grains and wine.


    And the wound. That damn archer. He¡¯d caught me with an arrow, right through the calf. I cursed myself for not killing him when I had the chance. But killing another human? That was one red line I still hadn¡¯t crossed. The pain in my leg was a reminder: mercy and hesitation weren¡¯t an option. My refusal to kill that human archer led to this wound, maybe even my potential death, if he got off another shot.


    The wound was in the one place I still hadn¡¯t had much protection from. I would have to invest in leg gear. I pulled off the old bandages, wincing as pain shot through my shoulder and leg. The matcha-like elixir stung as I spread it over the wounds. Crocodilian Healing worked fast, but it wasn¡¯t magic. I had to let it do its thing. The potion burned worse than the injury itself. I¡¯d already used up half my supply¡ªtwo doses gone when I carelessly yanked the arrowhead out. Too much blood. Too fast.


    Despite the pain, I tore into the hardtack and jerky, shoving food into my mouth while Rudolph curled up behind me. He startled me, and I bit my lip in the process, too focused on recouping my energy to care. He was quiet, chewing on the roots he¡¯d found, while I kept my eyes on the cave entrance. With no JD, there¡¯d be no early warning. I¡¯d have to doze through the evening before sunset.


    Hours later, light filtered in from the cave mouth. The sun¡¯s dying glare through the cave¡¯s mouth jerked me awake. Rudolph stirred too, nuzzling me as he devoured the last of the roots.


    I felt JD before I saw him, a familiar tug in my gut. Closing my eyes, I focused, pinpointing the bird¡¯s flight path. I grabbed my gear, made water, and mounted Rudolph.


    When we reunited, JD dove towards me and perched on an elk¡¯s antler. Reliable, as always. A new message was tied to his leg.


    ¡°Back@Hill in 3


    with supplies&men


    - soph ? ¡±


    With that taken care of and my flying scout back, I set out for the night¡¯s ambush. The main camp had settled back at the farm, three hundred raiders strong. Their perimeter was rigged with caltrops and wards ever since my last attack, but their food supply had run dry thanks to my firebombing. That well was dry, and they¡¯d tightened security since. Tonight, I¡¯d go after the reinforcements¡ªfifty men and their resupply wagons.


    The wagons were a half-day march from the main camp, setting up to merge the two camps tomorrow. From there, they''d march south toward Thornhill, following the Turtle River. It made sense¡ªword had likely come from Super, their inside informant. For some reason, though, and much to my chagrin, they never needed relays or runners. Their communication magic¡ªprobably something to do with their class or abilities¡ªkept them in touch with no need to risk their messengers getting intercepted by me.


    My plan for tonight was simple: destroy the resupply wagons and leave them marching for a few more days with empty stomachs. They¡¯d have to send more men out to forage, giving me more chances to pick them off. I was running out of time. By the time they reached the river, they could freely scavenge from it. I wasn¡¯t going to ruin our main river''s water and risk harming the villagers.


    I¡¯d scouted the resupply caravan from Kronfeldt earlier¡ªfifty men, fresh off the piers from Kronfeldt. Sailors, mostly, and a few recruits coming in to take advantage of the gold rush Sophie was stirring up. One Eldrin captain, however. They were tight around their camp, secured by wolves and hounds, the perimeter guarded by men who kept watch near the fires where the rest of the caravan unloaded and rested. Still, with only fifty men, they were far more vulnerable to a night raid than the main army of three hundred.


    Knives coated in Anika¡¯s poison were carefully wrapped in leaves before I tucked them away in a special pocket. As always, I rechecked my gear before the raid: four Molotovs (three clay, one glass), fourteen throwing knives (having lost several throughout this campaign), a single dose of potion, two bandages, and three days¡¯ worth of food.


    I exhaled deeply, my nerves tight and my head throbbing from the blood loss the arrow had caused. The pain was sharp, but I pushed it aside. It was dusk now, and a herd of elk grazed near the camp, just before a meadow. A thicket of trees bordered the camp¡¯s edge, half a mile away.


    Riding Rudolph, I guided him toward the other side of the herd, careful to let the male bulls take notice. They began raising their heads, challenging one another. I didn¡¯t wait.


    I focused, summoning Cyclopean Beam. My eyes flared with red-hot magic, and the energy shot out in a stream, crashing into a giant oak. The tree groaned and fell toward the herd. The elk scattered, the stampede beginning as the trees crashed into their grazing ground. JD, ever watchful, followed behind me, letting out sharp alarm caws that scattered the herd toward the encampment. Perfect.


    Reaching into Rudolph¡¯s saddlebags, my hands trembled as I grabbed a glass Molotov. The pain in my shoulder didn¡¯t help steady my grip. I lit it with the Ring of Ignition and hurled it toward the parked wagons.


    The camp erupted in chaos. Wolves and dogs howled, adding to the confusion, and the elk charged through the camp like a flood. Men scrambled, disoriented, as fire bloomed from every direction. I threw Molotov after Molotov, setting fire to tents, wagons, and scattered supplies. Anything they had, I set alight with the Firewielder skill, feeding the flames until the night crackled with heat and screams.


    The wine casks, meant to lift the soldiers'' morale, fell victim to my dagger. Slashed open, they tumbled from the flaming wagons, spilling streams of alcohol onto the ground. Seizing a nearby torch, I ignited the trails, sending flames racing toward the tents and other wagons.


    With Cyclopean Beam and Acid Spit off cooldown, I unleashed them on groups of Beastkin, carving through their ranks with fiery blasts and acidic fury. My throwing knives followed, a hail of iron machine-gunning through men¡¯s unprotected foreheads as they scrambled out of their tents, half-dressed and coughing from the thick smoke. Confusion clouded their movements, and I used it to my advantage, mowing them down one by one.


    The flood of elk had finally passed, leaving destruction in its wake. Taking advantage of the chaos, I shadowed the last few elk to the far side of the camp. But my work wasn¡¯t finished. I still needed to retrieve my knives and ensure no survivors were left to spread word of what had happened here.


    I dismounted Rudolph under the cover of the darkened woods, leaving him hidden. Creeping back toward the smoldering camp, I used Shadow Walk. Through JD¡¯s eyes, I saw deserters fleeing the carnage while others desperately tried to extinguish the flames.


    These shouldn¡¯t be infected with Covid, so they should be okay to flee back to Kronfeldt and maybe find less dangerous work.


    As I approached, a chained hound¡¯s relentless barking broke through the cacophony. Its nose caught my scent despite Shadow Walk. It bared its fangs, but I tossed it some dried meat from my bag, soothing its aggression. Quiet returned.


    Two gnolls, distracted by the chaos, were looting a caravan¡¯s coffers from the captain¡¯s tent. They didn¡¯t even see me coming. A knife to the back of the neck ended their spree, my blade driving deep into their skulls.


    Patrolling the camp, I retrieved my throwing knives from the fallen bodies. My focus was sharp until a prickle at the back of my neck made me freeze.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    I¡¯m being hunted.


    I melted behind tent covers just as I noticed them: yellow feline eyes gleaming in the dark. A man stepped into the firelight. Dull red hair, tied back in a ponytail, framed his long, thin beard. He carried a massive polearm, his glowing orange eyes staring straight at me. Five black panthers flanked him, their growls reverberating in the smoky air.


    ¡°We meet at last, Stalker,¡± he said, his tone unnervingly amused. ¡°Drudus warned me you might strike.¡±


    My mask¡ªcrap, I¡¯d forgotten to put it on. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the cat mask from Kronfeldt, slipping it over my face. Not that it mattered¡ªthis man wasn¡¯t leaving here alive.


    ¡°Oh my, it seems you¡¯re a Chattel. You must have a powerful class to cause such destruction. I can¡¯t wait to bring you back to Dr¡ª¡±


    Before he could finish whatever smug speech he had prepared, I launched a knife at him. He deflected it with his polearm¡¯s staff, but I followed up with Acid Spit. The orb of sizzling green acid landed among his panthers, reducing one to a charred, smoking heap. The others sprang into attack mode.


    Activating Harpy¡¯s Flight, the skill surging like a short-duration jetpack, I launched myself into the air just as the remaining panthers sprang. Their claws grazed the air beneath my feet, but I retaliated mid-flight with Cyclopean Beam, incinerating them all in a blazing arc.


    I landed on their bodies which disintegrated into blue wisps and then I immediately bolted into the darkness. My instincts screamed at me to keep moving. Pain shot up my leg.


    A screeching symphony erupted behind me. I turned to see the Eldrin pull a card from his robes, summoning a swarm of bats. They poured from the void, a cloud of flapping, biting chaos. Their tiny teeth tore at my neck and ears as they swarmed around me.


    Slashing wildly with both knives, I hacked through the chaos. It felt like breaststroking through a storm of flying rodents, my blades carving through the dense swarm of bats. Blood and shredded wings clung to my arms as I fought to break free. JD dove into the fray, tearing out bat eyes and scattering them. Together, we cleared the air, but not before I was left bleeding and utterly spent.


    Chugging a potion, I steadied myself, but the ground trembled beneath me. The Eldrin was coming with a new summon.


    Through the gloom, Amber Nightstalker revealed his mount: a massive, armored beast with a single horn jutting from its snout. A rhino¡ªits silver hide gleamed in the moonlight as it barreled toward me, the Eldrin atop it, halberd raised like a lance.


    I whistled for Rudolph, praying he¡¯d come. The rhino smashed through the trees like they were twigs, each step reverberating through the earth. Just as I spotted the familiar outline of antlers charging toward me, I vaulted onto Rudolph¡¯s back in one smooth motion.


    We sped off through the forest, weaving through the tight maze of trees. The rhino, unbothered by obstacles, simply plowed through. Splinters and branches exploded around us, the Eldrin¡¯s relentless pursuit echoing behind. My cooldowns were still ticking. I had to think fast.


    When Acid Spit finally came off cooldown, I executed a quick rollback and hurled the green orb at the rhino¡¯s legs. The acidic projectile struck its knees, causing the beast to stumble. Its immense weight crashed forward, leaving a dust cloud as it tumbled. In the chaos, I reached into my bag, grabbed my last clay Molotov, ignited it with my ring, and hurled it at the downed rider and his mount. Flames erupted, engulfing them in a fiery explosion. The Molotov lacked enough fuel to finish off the rider and beast.


    The rider, his long red ponytail singed and his once-bronze armor blackened with soot, leaped free of the inferno. His halberd was raised high as he charged at me, his eyes burning with fury. He brought the weapon down in a hammer strike aimed at severing my left arm, gripping a long knife that activated a Parry.


    The impact sent him stumbling back, and I seized the opportunity of the daze effect left by Parry. With Deadly Shot primed, I aimed a poison-coated dagger and launched it straight at his exposed collar. The blade struck true, sinking into flesh. Blood gushed from the wound as he grimaced, but he quickly yanked the dagger out, his hand fumbling for a potion at his side which JD swooped in and swiped right off his hands.


    ¡°Not so fast,¡± I muttered, urging Rudolph forward. My mount lowered his antlers and charged. The Eldrin barely had time to react before Rudolph''s antlers struck his chest, bruising his armor and sending him sprawling backward in a loud thud that sent dirt and mud flying.


    Desperate, he reached for another potion again, but a throwing knife pinned his wrist to the ground. His teeth clenched, his eyes filled with hate as black veins crept up his neck and face, the poison from my dagger working through his body.


    "It¡¯s you or me," I thought grimly, my grip tightening on my knife. Killing never got easier¡ªbut hesitation meant death.


    I stared at the potion just out of his grip.


    Should I¡­ I should probably keep him alive to question. I don¡¯t want to do that. But¡­


    The decision was out of my hands as the poison took hold. He convulsed, choking on black ichor as he tried to sound his final words. At last, his chest heaved one final time, and he lay still. The rhino summon, which had just risen to charge at me, vanished into blue wisps.


    I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my ears. Pain and aches radiated through my body, but the worst was in my leg, which had been pushed to its limit through that sprint. A searing, white-hot agony shot through it with every movement, like fire burning through bone. My head felt light, and it was all I could do to keep myself standing. My mouth felt like sandpaper. Lost too much blood. A potion can¡¯t fix that. I wiped the sweat from my brow, trying to focus.


    Something compelled me to check my cards, which I did while I gave myself a moment to recover, and I noticed one of them had crossed a threshold.


    Throwing Weapons - 6


    A new skill card pack was unlocked, offering three choices:


    Boomerang - C


    A weapon you throw will return to command.


    Cooldown: 90 seconds


    Poison Edged - C


    Coat a weapon with a poison that deals damage over time.


    Cooldown: 300 seconds


    Ricochet - C


    Your weapon bounces between targets if they are five meters from each other (up to 4 targets)


    Cooldown: 200 Seconds


    The options shimmered before me, waiting for my choice.


    Ruling out Poison Edged was an easy decision, I could always coat my knives manually. As for Boomerang and Ricochet, I weighed my options carefully. Ricochet was powerful, no doubt, but it didn¡¯t quite fit my hit-and-run style. I wasn¡¯t aiming to be the kind of fighter who stood toe-to-toe with multiple opponents. That¡¯s what my Cyclopean Beam and Molotovs were for. Boomerang, though? It aligned perfectly with my preference for striking and retreating¡ªa weapon that could return to me would save time and resources. I locked in Boomerang.


    That night, I stayed to clean up the wrecked camp. With their leader gone and most of the soldiers dead or scattered, I hunted down the remaining stragglers who hadn¡¯t fled. Looting the boss¡¯s tent turned up a small chest containing two hundred First mints and one hundred Second mints¡ªthe funds meant to pay the main army. I doubt they¡¯ll be pleased about going unpaid.


    What am I going to do with all this money?


    The other intriguing find in the captain¡¯s tent was a book, its pages filled with a language I couldn¡¯t read. I¡¯d hand it off to James when I got the chance; he could decipher it.


    As I prepared to leave, I stumbled across a young man near my age trying desperately to put out the fires. His curly flaxen hair was matted with sweat and ash, and dirt streaked his hands and face. Something about him felt¡­ off. A strange pull inside me stopped me from turning away. Then I realized: that by defeating his former master, I¡¯d unintentionally claimed ownership of him.


    A Slave card materialized in my hand, displaying my claim as his new owner. At that moment, he froze mid-action, almost as if commanded by an unseen force, and turned to face me.


    ¡°Y-you¡­ you¡¯re my new Master. But you¡¯re a Chattel?¡± he stammered, his voice filled with awe and fear.


    I sighed, already exhausted from the night¡¯s events, and replied curtly in Lokan, ¡°Gather your things. You¡¯re coming with me.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡± His confusion was almost palpable.


    ¡°Hop on,¡± I said, gesturing to Rudolph.


    Hesitantly, he obeyed, climbing onto Rudolph behind me. As we rode off through the camp ruins to search for loot, I wanted to know how he could help me.


    ¡°Do you know how to fish?¡± I asked, wondering if he might contribute to the final trap I was about to set up before I returned to Thornhill to pick up Cass.


    ¡°Oh yes, Master, I¡¯m a great fisher. I can farm too... even cook a little,¡± he replied eagerly as if trying to prove his worth.


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me or anyone else ¡®Master,¡¯¡± I said sharply, cringing at the title. ¡°My name is Orion.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Leowin... Mas¡ªuh, I mean... sire.¡±


    ¡°Pick up whatever crossbows and loot what you can. We¡¯ll need it where we¡¯re going.¡±


    He hesitated, then asked nervously, ¡°Where are we going... um, sire?¡±


    ¡°Sanctuary.¡±

 Chapter 76

    Chapter 76


    James


    Day 64 of First Landing


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 367


    "Hey, you!¡± someone shouted as I stood with my trousers down, leaning up against a tree, mid-relief. ¡°No one¡¯s to wander off alone! Captain¡¯s orders. You want to get butchered by the Stalker, you knobhead?¡±


    I turned, still finishing up, to see Sergeant Hailon of the Red Scythe glaring at me. He was an old, grizzled gnoll, with one ear missing and a machete slung casually over his shoulder. His good eye followed me as I expelled the last of my bladder. Zipping up with as much dignity as I could manage, I gave him a nod and trudged back to camp, clutching the book Orion had left for me tight against my chest as if it might keep me safe.


    Yesterday, while the main camp slept, Orion had shattered our reinforcements to the four winds. By morning, the news spread like a plague¡ªcoin for the soldiers was gone, and the food with it, was all up in flames.


    Morale? Rock bottom. You want to break an army? Don''t pay ''em, don''t feed ''em. The camp was ripe for mutiny, and the weather wasn¡¯t helping. Clouds smothered the sky, and the relentless rain made the march feel like we were dragging our feet through quicksand.


    We split into groups of thirty; I ended up with Catus¡¯ lot, hunting for anything edible in this forsaken wilderness. It seemed like someone had driven off every creature bigger than a squirrel. We scraped by on birds with more bone than meat, and the occasional rodent unlucky enough to cross our path.


    Moving west toward the river, the main camp stumbled across what was left of our reinforcements. Bodies littered the ground, wagons, and tents reduced to burnt-out skeletons, and the forest surrounding them blackened and dead.


    ¡°The Stalker¡­¡± a frog-faced soldier croaked, his voice thick with fear.


    Never one to miss a chance, I piped up, ¡°Think he¡¯s watching us right now? Bet he¡¯s got this whole place laid with traps!¡±


    It was like lighting a fuse. Panic spread through the men faster than wildfire.


    ¡°I¡¯m not getting paid enough for this!¡± someone grumbled. ¡°We were supposed to be rounding up Chattel, not fighting a demon!¡±


    ¡°The Stalker poisoned the casks! More people are falling sick!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got no food! The water¡¯s tainted! We¡¯re doomed!¡±


    More men joined the chorus of panic, their fear jumping from one man to the next. A single man can be reasoned with. But a mob? That¡¯s a beast of its own.


    "QUIET!" roared Varon, the hulking Eldrin wielding a greatsword plated in thick armor. "The next word about the Stalker, and I''ll personally tear out the man''s tongue."


    The silence that followed was suffocating, each man swallowing his fear rather than risk Varon¡¯s wrath. His threats were never hollow.


    Then Hadrelian, ever the smooth talker, stepped forward with his diplomat''s smile. ¡°Brothers,¡± he said with a voice like honey, ¡°let¡¯s not let this setback turn us from our goal. After the next reaping, I promise each man a First from my coffers.¡±


    The promise of coin usually worked to settle nerves, but today? It barely touched the unease rippling through the ranks. Promised gold means little when you''re half-certain you won¡¯t live long enough to spend it. The Stalker had everyone looking over their shoulder.


    We left the burnt camp behind and pushed on toward the Yendel River. It was meant to take us south to Thornhill, but right then, it felt like we were being herded toward our graves.


    When we reached the river, I recognized the trail from my last trip to Kronfeldt. We were only a few days from the outskirts of Thornhill, but even that felt like a distant dream. The river gave a brief respite, and the foragers could finally try their luck with fishing.


    Except, when we got there, we found four crimson bears gorging themselves on fish at the riverbank. Fat and sluggish, they barely noticed us. The Red Scythe rallied, seeing a chance for some real food, and set upon the bears with magic, arrows, and a thirst for meat. The bears hardly fought back, too stuffed and lazy to care.


    Rather than waste time fishing, the men opted for roasted bear meat. But I wasn¡¯t about to trust anything cooked up by foragers, not with Orion¡¯s warnings still fresh in my mind. So, I stuck to my dried meat, hardtack, and waterskin, steering clear of the offered wine.


    As expected, the bear meat turned out to be tainted. Hours later, men were doubled over in pain, retching and coughing their guts out. When they checked the riverbank again, they found a pile of dead fish¡ªpoisoned, just like the bears.


    The camp grew more tense as night fell, with a third of the men on watch at all times, rotating in shifts. No one wanted to be caught off guard, not with the Stalker looming in every shadow.


    While the others tried to sleep, I took the chance to examine the book Orion had given me. It was old, leather-bound, with no title on the front. The pages were yellowed with age, and inside the cover, a small blurb had been recently scribbled in some kind of Latin script, distinct from the rest of the text.


    The book was written in Drakon, or at least in a primitive form of it. Thanks to days of spying on the Eldrins, and my knack for languages, I could muddle through it. Drakon was a distant cousin to Eldertongue, with hints of Lokan thrown in. Not too hard to pick up if you¡¯d read the Latin script and understand the language¡ªor had the Golden Tongue skill like mine.


    The scribbled note translated roughly to: "This is a gift, Hadrelian. In return, I hope you bring me to the trials.¡± The word "trials" was simply a substitute word I hadn¡¯t uncovered yet. It could mean a lot of things in Drakon¡ªplace of battle, place of trial, arena of trial.


    The first thing I learned when I started poking around the camp was this: the cooks always had the best insight on the Eldrins. My best lead came from an older collared human I¡¯d struck up a cautious friendship with¡ªmid-forties, grey streaks in his light brown hair and beard, hands steady as he worked the stove. One of the personal cooks for the Eldrin high command, of all things. Not someone you¡¯d think would have time to chat, but there we were.


    ¡°Za-rin-ka?¡± I asked him one evening, keeping my tone as neutral as I could manage.


    ¡°Means blizzard,¡± he replied, barely glancing up from his work. ¡°Zarin means storms, ka means snow.¡± His voice was flat, his expression deader than a doornail¡ªthe look of someone who¡¯s been collared long enough to have the fight drained right out of them. One of the "Chattel," as the Eldrin so delicately put it.


    ¡°Right. Thanks.¡± I gave a nod, trying not to come across as overeager.


    That got me a reaction, at least. His brow furrowed just a touch, and his eyes flicked to mine, curious but wary, like he couldn¡¯t quite believe someone had bothered to thank him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve taken quite the interest in Drakon, boar,¡± a voice interrupted from behind me, the words in Lokan. The accent was familiar¡ªOrion and Sophie had that same lilt when they spoke the foreign tongue.


    As I finished up, I turned to find Hadrelian¡¯s pet Ranger standing there, looking me over like I was a particularly suspect bit of meat. Mid-twenties, charcoal-black hair, and light brown eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Cameron, they called him. An odd name for a bloke like him, which wasn¡¯t the only odd thing about him.


    Cameron was a walking contradiction. Fair-skinned and angular-nosed, sure, but his almond-shaped eyes and dark hair screamed some Asian ancestry. And then there was the name¡ªCameron, of all things. Modern, American, and as out of place in this world as I was. The kicker? The man spoke flawless English, with the dialect you¡¯d expect from someone raised in Southern California. It was enough to make me itch with curiosity, but how could I even start that conversation without revealing too much about myself?


    He might have been collared and a servant to Hadrelian, but the way he carried himself¡ªconfident, always watching¡ªmade it clear he wasn¡¯t your average worker Chattel. And yet, I knew one wrong word to him could end with me wearing one of those blasted collars, too.


    I gave him a small bow, more out of caution than respect. It didn¡¯t help¡ªhis suspicion only deepened.


    ¡°My friend here was filling me in on the camp¡¯s goings-on,¡± I said, gesturing to the cook, who quickly jumped in to explain.


    ¡°He was asking about the Chattel¡¯s health,¡± the cook said in heavily accented Lokan.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Were you?¡± Cameron asked, toneless.


    ¡°And? Do the Chattel suffer from the same coughing sickness plaguing the Beastkin?¡± I asked.


    The cook shook his head. ¡°No. Fortunately, my Master gave me an elixir as soon as I started getting sick.¡±


    Cameron¡¯s eyes narrowed as he turned his focus back to me. ¡°Interesting. You don¡¯t seem to be sick either.¡±


    It took every ounce of willpower I had not to react. On earth, my law firm had ensured I was fully vaccinated. Besides, I¡¯d already had COVID a few months before boarding the plane¡ªor at least, I thought I had. Not that I could say any of that. Explaining why I seemed immune to a disease sweeping through the camp wasn¡¯t a conversation I was willing to have¡ªespecially not with him.


    "You know how it is. I must have whatever immunity you lot have," I said, laughing a little too hard to hide the knot of unease in my gut.


    Cameron¡¯s eyes narrowed in suspicion. "We lot? The Eldrin dose us with potions to protect their valuable property. That doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯ve been spared."


    I forced a grin. "I¡¯m a boar, aren¡¯t I? Rolling in the muck, eating God knows what? Builds up a solid resistance to most things."


    His gaze didn¡¯t waver. "Why are you so interested in us, anyway?"


    I hesitated, but only for a moment. "I¡¯ll level with you," I said, lowering my voice like we were co-conspirators. "There¡¯s a rumour going round that the Stalker¡¯s one of you Chattel. They call him the Magebane, don¡¯t they? The Chattel Messiah, destined to set you all free. I figured if I treat the Chattel well, maybe the Stalker¡¯ll leave me alone."


    That seemed to take the edge off him, his brow easing ever so slightly. Nothing like good old-fashioned self-interest to make sense of a man.


    "The Magebane," Cameron muttered, shaking his head. "He¡¯s nothing but a fairy tale. The Emperor¡¯s high priests cooked him up to keep the slaves filled with hope. Dangle the possibility of freedom in front of a man long enough. They¡¯ll keep walking."


    "He¡¯s real," the cook said, stirring his pot with a fervour that made the stew ripple violently. "I¡¯ve seen him. He stands like a man and is the bane of the Eldrin. He¡¯ll free us from our chains."


    "I¡¯ve seen him too," Cameron countered, his tone biting. "Has the face of a cat rather than a man. And for someone called Magebane, he didn¡¯t do much to disrupt the Eldrin¡¯s spells. He fights more like a rogue than the scorn of magic. The Captains reckon it¡¯s the old Lion of Ironclad, back to avenge his fallen company. I¡¯m not convinced. One thing is for sure, he¡¯s no Messiah. He can bleed."


    "The Magebane can take many shapes," the cook said, his voice rising like a preacher¡¯s. "Who else could strike at the Eldrin like he has?"


    Cameron rubbed his face, weary and unconvinced. "If he¡¯s so powerful, why are the collars still working?"


    "He¡¯s testing us," the cook insisted, nodding as if to convince himself. "We¡¯ve got to prove we¡¯re worthy. Then he¡¯ll take us to Sanctuary."


    Cameron¡¯s expression softened on the cook, almost pitying. He didn¡¯t have the heart to dash the old man¡¯s hope.


    I leaned in closer, keeping my voice low. "If the Magebane frees you, I need to know you won¡¯t turn on me."


    "Only the Masters can break these collars," Cameron said flatly.


    "That¡¯s not true," the cook snapped. "The Magebane can do it. It¡¯s in the legends."


    Cameron exhaled and shook his head.


    "Let¡¯s say he does," I pressed. "Let¡¯s say he frees you. What happens then?"


    The cook smiled, his eyes gleaming. "That means we¡¯ve reached Sanctuary. I¡¯ll be running for the gates as fast as these old legs can carry me."


    Cameron gave a grim chuckle. "I¡¯ll kill as many Eldrin as I can before they catch me and slap a new collar on."


    "Fair enough," I muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Look, when we reach this¡­ Thornhill village, I¡¯ve heard they won¡¯t shoot anyone without a weapon¡ªespecially Chattel. If it all goes sideways, I¡¯m dropping my sword and putting my hands up. You¡¯d better vouch for me."


    "You think we¡¯ll lose?" Cameron asked, raising an eyebrow. "Hadrelian and Drudus could wipe Thornhill off the map if they wanted to, with just a few draws of the card. They¡¯re armies on their own."


    I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I¡¯m just covering my bases. Playing it smart. If that Stalker shows up, though¡­ well, I¡¯m not sticking around to find out what he wants."


    "The Magebane will save us," the cook said, his voice full of certainty. "Thornhill is Sanctuary. I can feel it."


    Cameron said nothing, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.


    Bidding farewell to the two collared humans and shaking off the weight of Cameron''s gaze, I returned to my post to get some rest.


    At daybreak, I would break away from camp to read the book Orion had given me. It was a welcome distraction, a puzzle filled with mystery.


    Settling into my secluded spot near the river, leaning against a tree, I opened the book carefully. My breath hitched as my fingers traced the faint script on the first page. The cants were written like poetry, each word carrying the chill of winter. Soft and tentative, I murmured them aloud, the cadence conjuring images of frost-laden forests and blizzards sweeping across barren fields. It wasn¡¯t just words¡ªit was music: the rhythm of falling snow, the hiss of ice cracking underfoot.


    The air grew colder with each phrase. My breath became visible, and tiny puffs of mist vanished into the night. Goosebumps prickled across my arms as though the cold was seeping into me from the very words I spoke.


    The book wasn¡¯t a tome of dry instruction. It felt alive, more like a collection of songs and verses celebrating winter¡¯s beauty and its raw, unrelenting power.


    Then it happened¡ªthat strange, unmistakable sensation. A tingling deep in my chest, as if a door had opened inside of me that led to a million different pathways. Paths of ice, paths of fire, paths of earth, paths of light and darkness. I looked down at my palms, expecting them to be empty, but instead, a card shimmered into existence.


    The words on its surface glowed faintly in the dim light:


    Path of the Elementalist - 1


    Harness the raw power of the elements, summoning them from the void to obey your command.


    Icebolt - 1


    Launch a piercing bolt of ice at your target.


    Cooldown: 120 seconds


    I held it gingerly, marvelling at the intricate design etched into the card. Snowflakes spiralled around the edges, while a shard of blue light seemed to pulse at its centre.


    I snapped the book shut, the rush of discovery making my hands tremble. But curiosity wouldn¡¯t let me leave it there. With a quick breath, I flipped it open again, found the cant, and recited it firmly.


    The air shifted, crackling with energy. A glimmer appeared in my hand¡ªa card: Icebolt. The words burned bright against the shimmering blue surface. Before I could think too much about it, I grabbed it. Frost coursed through my fingertips as the card dissolved into a long arrow of glowing blue light, shimmering with jagged edges of ice.


    I hurled it towards the river. The bolt zipped through the air with a high-pitched whistle, trailing frost in its wake. When it struck the water, the impact spread like a ripple frozen in time. Ice blossomed across the surface, jagged and glistening, stretching outward until it stilled the current.


    For a moment, I just stared. Warmth returned, and the river reclaimed its flow, breaking the ice into shards that drifted downstream like fragile, glittering wreckage.


    My pulse raced. Did that really just happen? Was I... a wizard? A sorcerer? No, that didn¡¯t feel right. Magic was extremely rare for humans. One in a million. A human mage was extremely rare. Could I really be one of those?


    The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. Then, a chilling yet intriguing possibility occurred to me.


    Could I be¡­ the Chosen One?!


    No, best not to get ahead of myself. I clenched my fists, the lingering cold biting at my skin. A human mage. Possibly the only one in this world. If I grew stronger, honed this power... well, maybe then... I could stand toe-to-toe with the Eldrin mages.


    But I had to keep this to myself. For now, at least. No one could know. Not yet.


    After breakfast, we were back in the march. Three more men had been found dead overnight, which brought our numbers down to just over 350. Of those, maybe 270 were actual soldiers and recruits. The rest were the usual camp followers¡ªChattel slaves, cooks, labourers, the unlucky ones pressed into service because they had nowhere else to go. To make matters worse, we had to march in the rain. Again.


    Hadrelian, seeing the morale in the gutter and the men¡¯s faces grim, raised his staff and cast a beacon over the entire column. The spell took the form of a miniature sun, its golden light piercing the drizzle and warming us from the inside out. It was like stepping out of a dark room into sunlight, and you could feel the shift in the air. Shoulders straightened, feet moved faster. Spirits lifted, and the men began to sing, voices rising with the beat of the march.


    Closer now. Closer with every step. The knot in my stomach tightened as the landscape grew familiar¡ªsickeningly familiar. I knew this place. Every hill, every bend in the river. Thornhill. Home. And the barbarians at its gates.


    By nightfall, we¡¯d made camp just half a day¡¯s march from the village. The scouts had gone ahead, their reports murmured between the officers that Thornhill had impressive walls and a moat. Lanterns were doused early, and the fires were kept low. The tension was palpable; the men subdued, even with Hadrelian¡¯s light still lingering in the sky. Throughout the night, a Carpenter Chattel and workers felled trees to prepare ladders, portable bridges, and¡ªone thing I had to warn Orion about, but he¡¯d been silent for a day, possibly already back in Thornhill¡ªa small raft-like rowboat.


    Tomorrow, Thornhill would be under siege. My village. My friends. My responsibility. And here I was, stuck among the enemy, armed with magic I didn¡¯t understand and a plan I hadn¡¯t yet figured out.

 Chapter 77

    Chapter 77


    Bianca


    Day 66 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 55


    When Sophie returned to Thornhill yesterday, she brought good and bad news. The good news was that she acquired plenty of arrows, bolts, and new crossbows, all to be reworked and modified by our blacksmiths. The bad news was that, in a few days, our village would be under attack.


    Panic erupted in the village when this news was shared. We all knew an attack was coming, but now we had a date. In just three days, invaders would come to our gates and do us harm.


    To ease the growing sense of hopelessness, I gathered the villagers at the base of the hill, where our two secret weapons¡ªthe Warwolf and the Last Argument of Kings¡ªstood ready.


    Slate was filling the counterweight boxes with stones while Ethan and Anika inspected the axle and greased the channel that guided the swing arm.


    I ensured there were no bystanders near the trebuchets'' potential impact zones. Elsewhere, Crag was hauling ammunition¡ªlarge boulders¡ªstacked neatly between the two siege weapons.


    Rain drizzled steadily as villagers, sheltered under makeshift banana leaves or muskrat cloaks, gathered to witness the first launch. Anika and Molvin adjusted the release mechanism and double-checked the counterweight''s balance. Slate hoisted the massive counterweight box into position, turning the treadwheel, pulling the throwing arm down, and locking it in place with a release pin.


    Crag, the more limited golem, carefully positioned a rough, wine barrel-sized boulder into the sling, ensuring it sat securely on the guide chute at the trebuchet''s base.


    Trebuchets are formidable weapons, capable of inflicting serious harm, so I kept a close watch on the crowd to ensure no one wandered too near.


    Our target for the trebuchets was the Death Pit¡ªa broad trench lined with sharpened spears. Before the siege, we had planned to cover it with thin planks and conceal it under a layer of dirt. I signaled to Anika with a nod. She and Molvin stepped back to the trigger mechanism, securing the trebuchet''s arm in place. The mechanism was simple but effective¡ªa sturdy wooden catch that held firm under tension. Anika pulled the release lever, and the catch disengaged.


    The damp wood creaked as the counterweight dropped, unleashing its stored energy with a deep, resonant groan. The Warwolf''s arm shot upward. The boulder soared into the sky, scattering a fine mist of rainwater before plummeting toward the Death Pit.


    Swish!


    Cheers erupted from the crowd as the boulder struck dead center in the pit we¡¯d built roughly 100 yards north of the North Gate. I exhaled deeply, relieved it had avoided any landmarks and worked flawlessly. Anika grinned, holding up a newly earned skill card.


    Siegecraft - 1


    We ran another test, this time with the Last Argument of Kings (LAK) under Anika¡¯s control. The boulder landed just to the right of the pit, creating an enormous crater. Cheers erupted from the crowd. The villagers grew excited, imagining the havoc these siege weapons would wreak on the invaders. On the day of the battle, Crag and Slate would be responsible for loading and preparing the trebuchets, while Anika would oversee operations.


    After the launches, the villagers returned to work. Half of them hauled barrels of supplies to our war headquarters near the gates, a tented area near Shelter 3. Buckets of arrows and bolts were stacked in trenches along the wall. Sharpened spears and caltrops were positioned before the North drawbridge in case the invaders crossed the moat. A triage station was prepped inside Shelter 3 with stretchers, bandages, and splints, alongside bins stocked with elixirs and herbs.


    The other half practiced at the archery ranges we¡¯d set up¡ªsimple planks placed against the chalk walls with painted targets. My heart ached as I watched Marek¡¯s boys learn to use crossbows under Sasha¡¯s guidance.


    They shouldn¡¯t be doing this, but Marek insisted they participate.


    Speaking of Marek, he and Alex were sparring with wooden weapons. Alex wielded a wooden stick while Marek used a wooden club, the two going at it in full armor. Beside them, Bart sparred with Jesus, both using wooden clubs, while Astrid faced off against Cade.


    All the dungeon regulars, including Jesus, Marek, Sophie, and me, were in the dungeon earlier that morning. We made it to the start of floor 4, where I reached a waypoint and hit Level 4 in Path of the Marksman. I even scored a new bronze chest plate from that cute cat Jester.


    Those crocodiles and that huge frog still made my knees shake, but the old dungeon crew handled them with no problem. I mean¡­ I helped a little too.


    At dinner that night, a stillness hung in the air. It was nearing summer, so the day was still bright, but the mood was dark. People shook their heads in disbelief, some quietly sobbing. How could I ask these people to fight? A few months ago, they¡¯d never seen combat. The only war they knew was in far-off countries on their phone screens.


    To think of it¡­ neither had I. Killing monsters in the dungeon was one thing; being in an actual war was something else entirely.


    My heart jumped as a horn sounded in the distance. One of our guards had spotted something. We all rushed to the North Gate defenses to man our posts. Astrid was the first to react, mounting her horse, Olive, and galloping toward the gate with a crossbow strapped to her back.


    From the northeast forest, across the fields of wheat, a familiar rider appeared on a black elk, with a stranger riding behind him. When he reached the moat, he waited for us to lower the bridge. Once across, he dismounted and carefully guided his elk through the caltrops and spears.


    ¡°Rye!¡± I shouted with glee.


    A slight smile crossed his face as I approached and hugged him.


    ¡°Who is this?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Leo,¡± Orion explained of the new collared human in a linen tunic. ¡°I found him.¡±


    When Cass came over, the two brothers exchanged a knowing nod before Orion said something in a foreign tongue to the new arrival, who looked awestruck by the sight of our village gates. Soon, the other former slaves gathered around, conversing with Leo and one another in hushed, reverent tones.


    A barrage of questions from the villagers followed, but Orion ignored them, inspecting our defenses instead. He nodded in approval.


    ¡°Alright, settle down, everyone,¡± he said. ¡°Yes, Sophie is right. They¡¯ll be arriving tomorrow. They¡¯re about a day and a half away.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you send your bird?¡± I asked.


    ¡°JD is scouting right now and delivering a message to James,¡± Orion replied, slightly out of breath. ¡°Anyway, I need to be off. I just came to collect supplies. I¡¯m heading back out immediately after a quick nap. I won¡¯t be here for the beginning of the siege.¡±


    ¡°What? Already? But¡ª¡± I began, only for the villagers to erupt in questions.


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving again?¡± someone cried.


    ¡°How do we know you aren¡¯t leading them to us?¡±


    ¡°Stay here and fight, you coward!¡±


    Orion''s arrival, combined with the steady stream of bad news, ignited a flurry of accusations. He rubbed his temples and looked like he was doing some breathing exercises to keep himself from erupting, and it was then I noticed just how worn down he looked. Heavy bags shadowed his eyes, and his face was gaunt beneath his stubble. His shirt and pants were tattered, streaked with dried blood, and slashed to ribbons. A large puncture marred his leather spaulder, exposing a bloodied bandage underneath. Tiny black scabs dotted his neck and collar.


    ¡°Sophie has bought a company from the North. I¡¯m going to rendezvous with them and strike from behind,¡± Orion explained. ¡°We¡¯ll take care of the mages and archers at the rear.¡±


    As more people clamored for answers, Orion struggled to explain while making his way toward the warehouse to restock. Seeing him overwhelmed, I intervened.


    ¡°Alright, everyone, let Orion do his thing. We¡¯ve got a big day tomorrow, so get some rest. I¡¯ll be rotating people on and off for guard duty,¡± I ordered.


    When the crowd dispersed, Orion headed to the warehouse and gathered his supplies. Before he left to get some sleep before setting out, Orion met with Sophie and the security council to exchange a few last words.


    ¡°They¡¯ll be expecting you. The White Fang Legion,¡± Sophie said, her mischievous smile somehow intact despite the incoming threat.


    ¡°How many men?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°Twenty-five riders. Last I checked.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Well, excuseee me. I¡¯d like to see you do better with only a few days,¡± Sophie huffed, crossing her arms.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of twenty-five random mercenaries knowing our location,¡± Orion said with a frown.


    ¡°They signed a confidentiality contract, so no worries. It¡¯s not like we have any other choice anyway. Keep this place a secret or die,¡± Sophie replied.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Orion¡­ can you explain how this magic EMP works?¡± Cade asked, scratching the back of his head.


    ¡°I buried it in the forest,¡± Orion said. ¡°It¡¯ll nullify magic in the area for a short time. Any of your magic spells will not work during the time it is activated. It''ll disable the mages from casting their spells.¡±


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Sophie murmured, tapping her chin as she eyed Orion suspiciously. ¡°Such a device would turn this world upside down...¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably super rare and it only has one more use,¡± Orion explained quickly, before moving on. ¡°Anyway, I won¡¯t activate it until the mages are positioned where they can¡¯t escape. Most likely, they¡¯ll move into range to target our front gate.¡±


    Orion gestured toward the giant map on the table, crafted from figurines and basic paint, pointing at strategic points.


    ¡°After that, they¡¯ll march to the open gates with their men. Once they¡¯re close enough, we¡¯ll activate the EMP. Make sure people stay away from the gates, or they¡¯ll get hurt. But once the EMP is activated, the mages will be useless. That¡¯s when you launch a counterattack, forcing them into the chokepoint at the gates,¡± Orion explained.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of letting them destroy our gate. Molvin and I spent days building that thing,¡± I said, shaking my head.


    ¡°It¡¯s a worthy sacrifice. If we just lower the bridge for them, they¡¯ll know it¡¯s a trap and send a scouting party before committing,¡± Orion replied with a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t like it either, but we can¡¯t let any of them escape back to their empire. I¡¯ll hit them from behind with the White Fang Legion and take out anyone trying to flee while you handle the main army with arrows.¡±


    ¡°How strong are they?¡± Alex asked, a flicker of excitement in his voice.


    ¡°From what James told me, some of the Eldrin captains¡ªthat¡¯s the warriors with the pointy ears¡ªhave reached level 8 in the dungeon. The regular foot soldiers are animal humanoids, like those pirates, mostly recruits and classless. A high-level Holder with combat abilities shouldn¡¯t have much trouble with them,¡± Orion said. ¡°Also, when the EMP activates, none of your magic abilities will work, and all the human slaves will be freed. They might help us or stand down, so avoid killing them if you can.¡±


    ¡°Be real with us, Orion,¡± Sasha said, narrowing her eyes. ¡°Do you think we can win?¡±


    ¡°In a normal fight? Probably not. But with the EMP? They¡¯re strong because of their magic. Without it, if we work together, we can win.¡± Orion clenched his fist and slammed it onto the map. ¡°More importantly, I want to win without losing a single person.¡±


    Standing in the center of the mess hall, Orion stretched his hand out. Without thinking, I placed mine on top of his. One by one, the others followed, stacking their hands in a growing pile. For a moment, no one said a word, but we all felt it¡ªa shared sense of purpose.


    ¡°No losses,¡± Orion said firmly.


    ¡°No losses!¡± we echoed with determination. Pressing our hands down together, we broke apart.


    When the sun rose, Orion was already gone. The previous night, he had warned me that he planned to take Cass with him to help with the artifact. Most of us gathered at the North Gate for breakfast¡ªsimple wheat porridge with eggs¡ªwhile making final preparations. As we ate, people talked about Orion taking Cass out on his elk and feared the worst. Rumors swirled that Orion was taking Cass because he was ready to flee Thornhill if things went south.


    A tiny part and the worst part of me believed it. Why Cass? Sure, he was a great shot with his sling, but Orion wouldn¡¯t risk his brother unless he had a Plan B¡ªescaping for Kronfeldt if the village fell.


    He would never do that¡­


    When someone said my deepest insecurities out loud, I couldn¡¯t hold back.


    ¡°Anyone who spreads that nonsense, I¡¯ll kick their butts and dock their coppers! Orion will not abandon us!¡± I shouted. Still, the rumors persisted.


    After the meal, we rounded up the elk from Astrid''s pens. Every elk was being used. Sophie rode Dancer, equipped with a longbow and quarterstaff, calm as ever. Anika, on Dasher, was inspecting the trebuchets on the southeast cliff, Slate and Crag at her side. Astrid, mounted on Olive, stood ready. Meanwhile, I was on Comet, the fastest elk, prepared to ride between Anika¡¯s siege weapons and the front gate to relay orders.


    A horn sounded from the walls. Aiden, one of our scouts, blew it first, and others along the chalk wall echoed the call.


    They were coming.


    Next to our raised gates stood a wall, towering three meters above the ground and two meters thick, with ladders at its base leading to the walkway on top. Constructed from perfectly cut chalk blocks quarried by Crag, the wall extended toward the river, continuing as far as the impassable rapids that fed into the ocean. Running parallel to the river, it blocked access from both the waterway and the northern lands. Atop the wall, a one-meter-high parapet with grooves and archer slits provided cover for defenders, bringing the total height of the fortifications to roughly four meters. For a small village like ours, it was an immense undertaking. Crag and Slate had worked tirelessly, 24/7, for seventeen demanding days. I¡¯d woken up in the middle of the night more than once, riding out just to check if they were still at it.


    From the parapet, I scanned the incoming horde descending from the north. They were marching with ladders and makeshift bridges, using them as shields. I gulped but forced myself to steady.


    My stomach churned, and I vomited out the wheat porridge and my morning tea over the ledge of the walls, praying no one saw my moment of weakness.


    I needed to find the strength to do this. I had to be strong.


    Climbing down the wall, I found the villagers gathered, waiting for my final orders. Wiping the remaining vomit from my mouth and hoping the villagers didn¡¯t notice my shaking knees, I stood before them to deliver my speech.


    Make it good, Bianca. They are relying on a strong leader to guide them through this.


    ¡°Alright, everyone¡­ they¡¯re here,¡± I said, voice trembling.


    Knees wobbled, and muffled sobs escaped from women clutching crossbows, their knuckles white with fear. Alex and the rest of the dungeon crew stood grim and still, nodding in silent determination, urging me to find my resolve. But the sight that tore at me the most was the children¡ªoh god, the children. Their wide, innocent eyes searched for answers none of us could give. All they wanted to know was why their parents were armored, holding weapons with tears in their eyes, hugging them tightly, and bidding them farewell as Kathy, their elderly teacher, took them away, assuring them their parents would be fine.


    And then there were the former slaves. Wulfric and Leo stood with their bows gripped so tightly it seemed the wood might splinter. Beside them, Urf waited, face steeled against the men who once claimed to own him.


    The defenders of Thornhill wore whatever leather and bronze armor they could find, some fitting poorly, as if they were a damned raiding party themselves.


    We barely have anything. Why must you keep making us defend what little we have? I should have done more.


    ¡°I¡¯ve said this before, and I¡¯ll say it again.¡± My voice wavered at first, but soon found its strength and edge. ¡°We are a small village. We don¡¯t have the numbers they do. If we are going to survive in this world, we have to make the most of the people we have. If we lack in quantity, we will make up for it in quality.¡±


    My voice found its color with each word. The Holders nodded, urging me to do what I needed to do.


    ¡°Every seed we plant must yield ten times the harvest they can reap. Every weapon we forge must strike with the power of a hundred of theirs. Every arrow we loose must fly faster, and truer. And every one of our fighters¡ªevery single one¡ªmust be worth a hundred of theirs.¡±


    I paused, letting the weight of the words sink in, feeling something stir deep inside me.


    ¡°Our tiny village is a speck in this wide world. We may be small in geography and population, but we are not small in quality. I¡¯ve seen the strength and resilience of this village after our last invasion. Everyone here pulled together to make something worth defending. They¡¯ll always have the numbers, but we¡¯ll always have the people. They can field a thousand soldiers...¡±


    Reaching a place I didn¡¯t even know existed¡ªmaybe it was the Founder class, or maybe just a primal instinct to fight for freedom¡ªI screamed in outrage.


    ¡°And you know what?! I wouldn¡¯t trade a thousand of their soldiers for a single one of our villagers. NOT A SINGLE ONE! Their blood will water our fields! Their bones will feed our soil! We¡¯ll make these idiots regret ever stepping foot on our land!¡±


    The villagers erupted like a storm, fists pumping into the air, their roar shaking the very ground.


    ¡°Grateful for the company!¡± a voice bellowed above the din.


    ¡°No losses!¡± shouted another, defiant and raw.


    A chant broke out, swelling in waves as if the entire village had become one voice:


    ¡°Thornhill! Thornhill! THORNHILL!¡±


    People scrambled to the ladders, their faces set with grim determination and fierce pride as we prepared to face the enemy. Shoulder to shoulder, we lined the walls. Father Gallagher led the faithful in prayer, while Gabriel lifted our spirits with a song¡ªa familiar melody that stirred courage in many hearts.


    As we waited behind the chalk walls, I ordered everyone to clear from the gates. But curiosity got the better of many, and they peered out through the arrow slits, eyes fixed on the approaching horde.


    They came with ladders, bridges, swords, and crossbows, marching southward toward our drawn gate. As they reached our harvested wheat fields and watermill, my gut twisted when they set fire to the mill. I''ll make them pay for that!


    A necessary sacrifice. We can rebuild it. Stronger and better.


    They advanced like ants on the horizon¡ªcountless, insignificant, yet brimming with menace. In the back lines, a mage raised his arms, summoning a massive ball of fire. It pulsed and grew, a miniature sun that radiated searing heat before being hurled toward us.


    The fiery orb streaked through the sky, leaving a smoky trail before slamming into our wooden gate with a deafening roar. Days of work are destroyed in a matter of seconds by Void Magic. The wood shrieked as it shattered, splintering into countless charred fragments. Ash and smoke filled the air, leaving the gate a ruin of smoldering embers.


    Screams erupted, but I cut through the panic with a sharp, commanding, ¡°QUIET!¡± The fear died immediately, replaced by the tense silence of soldiers bracing for battle.


    We had expected this. The gate was always going to fall¡ªit was part of the plan. No need to panic. Not yet.


    The enemy roared as they surged forward, a tide of uncoordinated hunger and violence. Beast men with their grotesque forms, gnolls snarling, frogmen with slimy limbs, ratmen and boars skittering in packs. Leading them rode humanlike men in crimson uniforms astride white horses with long, pointed ears.


    Like a flood of leather and iron that poured down, they carried wooden bridges to span the moat. I watched intently, waiting for the spark of hope I knew was coming. Then, they crossed into the range of our arrows and bolts.


    Everything was falling into place.


    ¡°FIRE AT WILL!¡± I bellowed, my voice cutting through the chaos.


    In perfect unison, we moved. Those in cover sprang into action, and our ranged weapons¡ªbows, crossbows, and Molotovs¡ªlined the parapets and peaked out the arrowslits.


    We unleashed a storm. Arrows and bolts whistled through the air, a dark cloud of death raining down on the enemy. The twang of bowstrings and the crack of clay bottles shattering filled the air. But louder than all of it was the song.


    Gabriel, our bard, led us with his voice, strong and unwavering. The song, from a popular musical about oppression, stirred something deep within every human on the wall and served as a reminder of why we fought.


    ? Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? ?


    The defenders added their voices to the song, turning it into a symphony of death and defiance.

 Chapter 78

    Chapter 78


    James


    Day 67 of First Landing


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 346


    They are planning


    on using a group of 10 on


    rowboat to flank from


    the west shores!


    I etched the message as neatly as I could with the cursed stub of charcoal and the scratchy parchment, squeezing words into every available space, even the back. With a last tug to the bindings around JD¡¯s leg and a scrap of jerky pressed into his beak, my last piece, I sent him off into the dawn''s light.


    Orion hadn¡¯t sent word for some time. If I had to guess, he was likely circling around us by now, and I wasn¡¯t about to leave him or the village in the dark. Meanwhile, Catus and his group had fashioned a raft, planning to cross the river, skirt southward along the coast, and flank Thornhill from its shoreline¡ªa tactic that could make life hell for the defenders.


    A Chattel Carpenter had hollowed a log into a crude canoe for the flankers the night before. They planned to take several men to go around the walls by sea and wreak havoc. By dawn, they were hammering together ladders and bridges. The camp buzzed with activity, the air thick with the scent of sawdust and sweat. Amidst it all, Hadrelian and Drudus were at each other¡¯s throats again, voices ringing out louder than any hammer strike. Their argument, a well-worn routine by now, carried the cadence of the back and forth of a pair of brothers who had arguments all their lives.


    They spoke in Drakon, their secretive tone suggesting they thought no one but the Chattel or Eldrins could follow their words. Unfortunately for them, I had perched myself behind a tree, pretending to work on a ladder while loosening the nails in sabotage, ears sharp as a fox''s, soaking it all in.


    ¡°The Tethered known as Super has tricked us, brother,¡± Drudus growled, his words drenched in betrayal. ¡°They don¡¯t have fifty people. Not with walls and a moat like that.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they¡¯ve unique classes,¡± Hadrelian replied, voice smooth, detached, the tone of a man pondering a puzzle rather than a battlefield. ¡°If we capture this prize, the points the Inquisitors will bestow upon us will be sizable¡­¡±


    ¡°We should retreat. We don¡¯t have the numbers to take that fortress.¡± Drudus gnawed his nails, each word an anxious bite of desperation.


    ¡°Retreat? When we¡¯re so close? Ridiculous. Our scouts saw only two guards on the wall, armed with nothing but bare armor,¡± Hadrelian retorted, a condescending grin on his face.


    ¡°Ten men behind walls are worth a hundred in the open,¡± Drudus muttered, his voice thin with worry.


    ¡°Walls, brother, mean nothing when we wield the Void¡¯s power,¡± Hadrelian said.


    ¡°You¡¯ll send those men to their deaths,¡± Drudus snapped, teeth clenched.


    ¡°And? Heathen animals, the lot of them. One fewer unclean soul to pay.¡± Hadrelian shrugged.


    ¡°We still need enough of them alive to be useful. Someone has to do the rounding up of the Chattel. What if the Chattel revolt? You¡¯ll burn them to cinders, too?¡±


    ¡°Some will die, yes. If they use force, we must defend ourselves. But most? Most Chattel are cowards. Subdued easily enough,¡± Hadrelian said, his interest in the moral debate less than passing. ¡°Besides, the ones we lose are mere collateral. The Emperor will reward us tenfold for delivering rare class holders.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the way of the Divine Path,¡± Drudus hissed, his voice low, heavy with frustration. ¡°It¡¯s wrong.¡±


    ¡°Spare me the sermon, brother. The Divine Path won¡¯t earn us glory. The Honor Points we receive upon a rich harvest will,¡± Hadrelian said, his words dismissive.


    ¡°Watch your tongue, Hadrelian. Were we not blood, I¡¯d happily cut it out myself,¡± Drudus warned, voice laced with venom.


    ¡°But we are blood,¡± Hadrelian replied, his grin widening to something predatory. ¡°And the Path demands respect for your elder. Or have you forgotten?¡±


    Their argument simmered as they stalked through the camp, overseeing the preparations with the air of generals confident in their madness. I remained silent, still as stone, listening for any scrap of insight that might tip the scales in Thornhill¡¯s favor.


    The two leaders of the Red Scythe strolled through the camp, deep in conversation, as they oversaw the final preparations for the raid.


    Several hours later, horns blared, signaling the march. The men moved in a disciplined file along the river toward Thornhill with wards and buffs urging them on.


    The trek was grueling, and the soldiers seemed to channel their frustration into destruction. Upon spotting our watermill, they set it ablaze without hesitation, laughing and hacking up coughs as smoke billowed into the sky. I watched in quiet horror, anger simmering beneath the surface as the structure, a symbol of our combined hard work, succumbed to the flames. It was a grim preview of what lay ahead.


    Please¡­ at least spare the fields. I worked so hard on them. Not the fucking fields!


    At last, Thornhill came into view, and I stared in disbelief. White walls stretched high and proud against the landscape, a bastion of defiance where there once was none. How in the hell did they build this so quickly? It was nothing short of a miracle.


    "Bianca, you absolute beauty," I muttered under my breath. "You bloody pulled it off."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The walls, four or five meters tall, extended from the river to the eastern cliffs, which merged into the rugged, mountainous terrain. A moat nearly five meters wide lay before the fortifications, and the raised wooden drawbridge was raised, cutting off the only accessible entrance.


    Unfazed, Hadrelian led his men forward, the solid defenses and closed gates doing little to deter him. A card shimmered into existence before the Red Scythe''s leader, and he unsheathed a sword, pointing it toward the gates. In response, a massive ball of fire materialized, its searing heat palpable even at a distance. Like a falling star, it streaked through the air and slammed into the wooden drawbridge, setting it ablaze.


    The men cheered, their lips curling into predatory grins as Hadrelian gave the order to charge and take the Chattel alive. Makeshift wooden bridges were hefted onto shoulders. They served as shields for crossing the moat.


    I hung back, my heart torn between rage and despair. I won¡¯t be part of this. I won¡¯t help these bastards take my home. And I¡¯ll be damned if I stand anywhere near those arrows waiting to pin these bastards.


    The soldiers surged forward, bridges extended to span the moat. Archers followed in tight ranks, their bows poised to provide cover. Then, chaos erupted.


    "You there!" Drudus¡¯s voice snapped me from my thoughts. He pointed his staff at me with an accusing glare. "Why aren¡¯t you charging as ordered? Get in there, or you¡¯ll receive no pay¡ª" His voice faltered as his gaze sharpened. "Wait¡­ what in the Emperor¡¯s name is happening to your fur?"


    I glanced down, alarm coursing through me. Blue wisps drifted away as patches of fur shed from my face, revealing my human skin beneath.


    Drudus¡¯s eyes widened, his whisper trembling with horror as realisation dawned. "You¡¯re¡­ a Chattel? A Chattel skinchanger!"


    He dismounted his pristine white stallion, rifling through a saddlebag and producing a silver slave collar. Panic gripped me. I reached to summon my Ice Bolt card, but when I pulled it, the usual blue energy that provided its glow blacked out.


    This is the work of the EMP Orion is talking about! Fine, I¡¯ll have to defend myself the old-fashioned way.


    My hands shook as I drew my cutlass instead, the blade feeling unsteady.


    Drudus summoned a card to bind me, but the magic fizzled uselessly. Confusion flickered across his face before twisting into terror. It was like a big man reaching for a big gun who suddenly realized the chamber was empty. He looked as though his entire world had flipped upside down.


    Around us, the other Chattel slaves stirred, their collars falling off their necks, shattering the chains that bound them to service to the Eldrins. Some dropped to their knees in reverence, shouting thanks to the "Magebane." Others cast off their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.


    The pandemonium escalated. Amid the chaos, a freed Chattel collided with Drudus, knocking him to the ground. Seizing the moment, the Chattel leaped onto Drudus¡¯ horse and rode off to the east through the forests.


    Hadrelian spurred his horse toward Drudus, the animal''s hooves kicking up dust as the two brothers closed ranks. Their heated argument carried over the din of the chaotic battlefield. I stood frozen, my cutlass gripped tightly in my hand, unsure whether to act or listen.


    ¡°Hadrelian!¡± Drudus shrieked, his panic palpable. ¡°The Void is out of reach! The Magebane¡­ the Magebane walks this world! The Emperor must know! He must call a Jihad, brother! Get me my horse! Stop that rider!¡±


    Hadrelian¡¯s lip curled in frustration as his gaze swept over the scattering Chattel. He summoned the many Slave cards that bound them to him, only for them to turn to ash. ¡°The Chattel¡ªthey¡¯re untethered! All of them! My Tethered! My wards! My buffs!¡±


    ¡°Forget the Chattel! Forget the damn army!¡± Drudus spat, his voice high and shrill. ¡°The Emperor must know of this calamity! A Jihad must be launched! These lands must burn in holy fire to destroy the Magebane!¡± Flecks of saliva flew from his lips, his religious fervor consuming him.


    The word Jihad struck like a hammer blow to my chest. That was the last thing these lands needed. I couldn¡¯t let them escape¡ªnot after everything.


    ¡°BROTHERS!¡± I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos. ¡°My fellow Chattel, hear me! I am a messenger of the Magebane! We must strike down these Eldrins!¡±


    Drudus snarled, his face twisted in fury. ¡°Shut your mouth, Chattel spy! I will chain you myself one day!¡± He scrambled onto Hadrelian¡¯s horse, clutching his staff and pointing it at me like a lance as he clung to his brother¡¯s back.


    But my words had already taken root. The Chattel, hesitant at first, began to rally around me. A few stepped forward, picking up abandoned weapons and pointing them at the Eldrins. They formed a protective line in front of me, a barrier of raw defiance.


    ¡°Sanctuary is just behind us, brothers!¡± I cried again, my voice carrying over the clamor. ¡°Kill these Eldrins, and your chains will be broken forever by the Magebane!¡±


    The Chattel stirred, anger bubbling to the surface as years of oppression turned into righteous fury. Slowly, like the gathering tide, they began to advance on the Eldrins.


    Hadrelian¡¯s jaw tightened, and he snapped the reins. ¡°You¡¯re right, Drudus. We must flee. The Emperor must know.¡± With a sharp kick to the horse¡¯s sides, the two brothers wheeled around and galloped away, their retreat swift and decisive.


    ¡°Do not let them escape!¡± I roared, and together we charged after them. But on foot, we had no hope of catching their stallion as it thundered away from Thornhill.


    There was no escape for the Eldrin brothers, Drudus and Hadrelian, however. Their retreat was cut short by the arrival of an ominous rider on a black elk thundering down the riverbank.


    ¡°The Stalker!¡±


    ¡°The Magebane!¡±


    ¡°The Saviour!¡±


    The Chattel erupted in cheers, hailing the rider as their messiah, their deliverer. He advanced with a calm menace, positioning himself squarely in the path of the fleeing Eldrins. Behind him, twenty-five riders emerged, their mounts kicking up dust, sunlight glinting off their weapons and armour. The riders spread into a single horizontal line, evenly spaced like the teeth of a comb, stretching across the northern horizon like a net. The Stalker barked commands, and his riders sprang into action. They swept through the wheat fields, spears, lances, and swords drawn, bearing down on the archers positioned at the rear of the army and pressing toward us¡ªthe freed Chattel and the two mage commanders.


    Hadrelian urged his horse westward, aiming for the ford in the river, his jaw clenched as he sought any escape. The horse he rode was a sturdy creature, water splashing against its ivory legs as it braved the current. The river pulled at it; the flow threatening to sweep them away, but the horse pressed on, its strength and stamina evident in its breeding.


    The time it took Hadrelian to cross the river with his horse gave time for his hunter to catch up. The Stalker, relentless as a shadow, was closing in. His black elk surged forward, every muscle in its massive frame coiled with purpose. Behind him, I spotted Cass, perched on the elk''s back, clutching Orion¡¯s waist like his life depended on it.


    Cass? Riding with Orion? Interesting.


    The chase plunged into the forest on the other side of the river, the two riders vanishing into the dense trees. The Chattel and I stood on the riverbank, breathless, watching the unfolding drama like an audience on the edge of their seats.


    When Orion approached, he saw the Chattel kneeling on one knee in reverence. He sighed, planting his face into his hands in exasperation. Then, he shot me a glare, to which I responded with an innocent shrug before he, too, crossed the river on his massive elk.


    I turned to the freed Chattel, raising my voice so it carried over the murmur of the river. ¡°Come, brothers! The Stalker will deal with those Eldrins. Now to arms! We shall march to our new home over the backs of our oppressors! To Sanctuary!¡±

 Chapter 79

    Chapter 79


    Cameron


    Fira (May) 30, 611 IE


    The Red Scythe - Army Size: 346


    It was happening again. Why was I fated to suffer? Why me?


    When I saw Thornhill¡¯s walls, I rubbed my eyes, certain my vision had betrayed me. How could a settlement of fifty souls build such fortifications? And yet, why did it all seem so... irrelevant?


    Thornhill¡ªhow could it be enough? You achieved a miracle, raising those defenses in mere months after being torn from our world, yet it still wasn¡¯t enough. Don¡¯t you see? These walls are meaningless against the Eldrin¡¯s sorcery.


    I¡¯ve seen it too many times¡ªvillages and farms like yours, taken by the Eldrin. Their people shackled, collars placed around their necks, sent off to Auriel. I tried to deny the truth, but it gnawed at me¡ªmy village, Fairhope, would fall the same way, eventually. Maybe it already has? And I, no, all us humans, would all be powerless to the Eldrins to such a fate.


    Why didn¡¯t I listen, Ashe? Why did I try to play the hero instead of staying where I belonged?


    I stood frozen, watching in despair as the raiders torched the watermill. I could do nothing¡ªnothing but watch. Their eyes burned with malice as they marched on. The Eldrin captains¡¯ eyes gleamed with lust as they watched the men and women cowering behind the distant white wall.


    The march had taken its toll on the foot soldiers, their fatigue clear despite the brief bit of energy they showed in their petty destruction of the watermill. With the mill reduced to cinders, their eyes turned to the buildings beyond the walls, searching for more to burn and destroy.


    Without Hadrelian¡¯s enchantments bolstering them¡ªmagic that granted vigor, endurance, and morale¡ªthey were broken, weary, and still aching from the grueling journey. The Stalker¡¯s barbs had lined every mile of the Red Scythe¡¯s march, the slow bleed gnawing at both body and spirit.


    Yet with Hadrelian¡¯s magic, they had pressed on, almost drug-induced, their pace steady and relentless, jogging toward the prize that loomed on the southern horizon. Each step was driven by the promise of conquest, despite the weight of exhaustion from the march and sickness threatening to collapse them.


    Only one barrier prevented them from breaching the fortifications and enacting their wrath upon those buildings and people inside. A lone wooden gate is wedged between two stone fortifications, constructed from perfectly square rocks meticulously stacked atop and beside one another, with a wide moat stretching out before it. For the moat, the Red Scythe had bridges made of logs nailed and tied together. For the lone gate, the Red Scythe had magic.


    The wooden drawbridge shattered like glass under the meteor strike Hadrelian unleashed with a casual draw of his card. A blazing comet tore through the sky and slammed into the lone visible entry to the village. The impact obliterated the drawbridge, shattering their final line of defense into splinters and ash.


    The breach opened a single pass through their walls. The horde would soon pour through the leak, an unstoppable tide ready to subdue any defenders still brave or desperate enough to stand. Behind them, Drudus and Hadrelian would waste no time. They would find every unbound Chattel within those walls and claim them, binding them in chains of magic and servitude.


    Please, just run. The Eldrin cannot be defeated!


    I marched with the archers, our bows and crossbows drawn, offering support to those who would lead the charge. Hadrelian had bound me once again to my old master, Varon. He rode ahead, clad in bronze armor painted red, his fiery beard protruded from beneath his barbuta helm, geometric wards covering him and his horse, a great zweihander in hand urging the men carrying the wooden bridges forward. Beside him, Fautus, twin swords crossed upon his back captaining the right side. Two red-armored Eldrin on each end, astride white steeds, leading a horde of beastkin¡ªfrogs, boars, rats, and gnolls¡ªinto the fray.


    The first wave of raiders crouched behind and underneath wooden bridges and ladders as they rushed toward the moat. From the walls, the defenders answered. Every slit and opening on the parapets became a mouth, ready to spit arrows and bolts. There were at least forty of them up there, it seemed. It didn¡¯t make sense¡ªhow had they prepared so thoroughly? Why weren¡¯t our mages summoning barriers to protect the front line? Where was Drudus, flooding the field with covering fog, or Hadrelian stirring his men¡¯s legs with vigor?


    As the raiders reached the halfway mark, some one hundred yards from the moat, their momentum faltered. The long march had finally taken its toll, and the drug-like effects of the buffs that had driven them so far, suppressing exhaustion and the instinct to flee, began to wear off. Withdrawal hit them like a hammer, leaving many staggering and disoriented.


    Something is happening¡­ it¡¯s as if¡­ a black hole that engulfed all magic was getting closer and closer.


    Behind me, Drudus and Hadrelian could be seen fleeing on horseback, their servants and the train of Chattel captives suddenly dropping to their knees in exhalation.


    In front of me, the protective wards that had shielded the raider¡¯s advance from the relentless rain of arrows shimmered and dissolved into faint blue wisps, fading back into the Void. Their once-solid assault unraveled. Ladders and makeshift bridges, hastily constructed, began collapsing one by one, as if some unseen saboteur had loosened bolts, unhinged nails and tied ropes in false knots.


    Firebombs rained down on our wooden bridges and ladders, setting them alight with alcohol-fueled flames that scorched the hands of the men carrying them. In a panic, they dropped their burdens, leaving themselves exposed to the hail of iron that followed from the parapets above.


    Then it happened.


    I felt the warm hum of my collar vanish as the energy powering it drained away. Like a tumor shedding itself, my collar clattered to the ground. The compulsion to march, the need to obey, all of it¡­ vanished.


    Not knowing what to do, I left my archer ranks and bolted for cover, my hands raised in surrender, praying I wouldn¡¯t fall victim to the defenders¡¯ arrows. So many thoughts flooded my mind. Flee? Fight? What in the world was happening? Near the edge of the killing field, I turned, knowing only one thing. I had to know. I had to witness.


    It was then that the defenders of Thornhill responded to our meteor strike with one of their own. This one was not born of magic but of human engineering. A massive boulder fell from the sky, crashing down on the raiders just before the moat. Beneath them, dirt had been hastily piled atop planks, concealing a deadly trap. When the boulder struck, the planks splintered, sending dozens of men plunging to their doom into a pit lined with spears. Unrelenting, the villagers of Thornhill followed with an encore; another boulder fell from the sky, smiting a dozen more, deepening the pit. Now, half the advancing formation was scattered¡ªsome men caught ahead the large pit, others behind, staring at their skewered allies. Unsure whether to press on in folly or retreat, they froze like startled deer between a rock and a storm of arrows.


    Then I heard it¡ªa song. It began faintly, a single voice rising above the chaos. A lone bard struck the first notes, and the melody quickly swelled, spreading across the battlefield like a wave. The tune hit me like a physical blow. I knew it¡ªhauntingly familiar, because it was from Earth.


    ? Do you hear the people sing?


    Singing the song of angry men??


    The defenders took up the call, their voices surging like waves against a rocky shore. The song built to a crescendo, its defiant energy blanketing the battlefield, screaming resistance and unyielding fortitude.


    Arrows began to rain faster, streaking from the walls with renewed purpose. The defenders, emboldened by the music, unleashed a relentless barrage. It felt as if the walls were lined with a dozen machine guns, firing an endless storm of arrows and bolts. Another boulder hurtled through the air, striking the ground with catastrophic force. Raiders were swallowed by the pit it left, their screams mingling with the clash of shattered armor and the relentless hum of ammunition.


    Despite the carnage, some raiders managed to reach the gates. They climbed over the corpses of their fallen comrades, which floated like grim stepping stones in the moat. What had once been a force of three hundred and fifty was reduced to half, and only half of those made it across the moat.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    For a moment, I considered picking up a bow and joining the Thornfolk in their slaughter, but I hesitated. I didn¡¯t want to make myself a target for either the defenders'' arrows or the raiders'' wrath.


    I wasn¡¯t going to leave, though; I had to see it through. I had to witness it, to know if a human settlement could survive the might of the Eldrin. I had to know!


    ? Somewhere beyond the barricade


    Is there a world you long to see??


    The first to reach the gates was a pair of gnolls, charging recklessly through the blown-out wooden gates. They were met by a rugged blonde warrior, smiling somehow, his long sword cleaving through, leaving them split in two by the waist. Close behind, a towering black spearman, clad in bronze and wielding a massive kite shield, stepped into the fight. His spear flashed in a rapid series of savage jabs, and more fell before him.


    Three more fighters joined the clash¡ªa man with short, spiky brown hair and a goatee, swinging a colossal warhammer as if it were a flyswatter; a copper-skinned man with a crew cut and mustache, wielding a glaive; and a hulking, balding man in his forties, gripping a heavy mace tightly. Together, they crashed into the raiders, their weapons crushing bones and breaking limbs.


    The glaive-wielder and the warhammer-wielder fought side by side, and it looked like... they were arguing over who would get more kills. I couldn''t believe it.


    To make matters even more absurd¡ªno, it couldn¡¯t be her, could it?¡ªsomeone who looked exactly like Sophie fucking Park, a popular influencer back on Earth, was twirling a quarterstaff and driving back more defenders.


    The six human defenders swept through the raiders. Behind them, arrows supported them and rained down in a deadly barrage, striking down any fool who dared to reinforce their fallen comrades.


    The villagers weren¡¯t alone though. Suddenly, my Tracking sense picked up the sound of thunderous hoofs. From the north, mounted riders swept in like a rolling duststorm through the fields, crashing into the backline of the ranged infantry. The forty men stood no chance¡ªskewered by lances and swords as twenty riders, bearing the gold insignia of a White Fox on their white capes, descended upon them.


    Mercenaries.


    It was a massacre. With no mages to shield them and the infantry, before them reduced to heaps of corpses, the men¡¯s short swords were useless. They were pierced by long lances and spears, and trampled beneath the crushing weight of horses and mules.


    I let my bow slip from my hands and raised them in surrender as the riders encircled me. One approached¡ªa scarred veteran feline, sword drawn, lifting up his visor. He studied me briefly before turning to his comrades and speaking in Lokan, ¡°This one is a Chattel. We aren¡¯t to harm Chattel who surrender, comrades.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked in Lokan.


    ¡°Bronzeclaw. Captain of the White Fang Legion. We¡¯re hired by the White Fox, tasked to protect Thornhill.¡± The Cat replied.


    Bronzeclaw¡­ the Lion of Ironclad. He examined my neck and then smiled at me.


    ¡°Beautiful sight isn¡¯t it?¡± He asked. ¡°Dead raiders and dead Eldrins.¡±


    ¡°Not dead yet. The Eldrins¡­¡± I said and together we watched the last two Eldrins on the field fighting to the bitter end.


    Only Fautus and Varon remained¡ªthe last of the Eldrins in sight. Behind us, the mages had likely fled. In the distance, I saw Fautus draw his twin swords from his back, only to be pelted with bolts and arrows. He defended defiantly as he danced with his swords, twirling them to deflect the incoming missiles. Despite the crossbow bolts and arrows piercing his body, the Eldrin kept fighting, clutching at what little strength remained, drinking potions to sustain himself. He faced off against the spearman and the man with the mace.


    The rest of the village had converged on Fautus like bees swarming an invading wasp, driving him back, and cornering him against the wall. No glorious mono-e-mono fight. Two warriors attacked him from both sides, hammering away as the Eldrin valiantly defended himself with twin swords, all while trying to dodge the relentless volley of arrows raining down from the villagers above. Fautus wouldn¡¯t last much longer. His body was pincushioned by the few bolts that got through, and his vigor was quickly draining from him.


    Meanwhile, Varon faced the blonde swordsman just outside the gates. As if the blonde human warrior wielding a long sword picked out my former Master, the two stared each other down in a confrontation. The two warriors clashed in a brutal exchange, each matching the other blow for blow. Varon¡¯s zweih?nder swung wide, an arcing strike meant to crush, but the swordsman parried it effortlessly, countering with a quick thrust aimed at Varon¡¯s torso.


    The Eldrin warrior twisted, narrowly avoiding the full force of the blow, though his bronze plate was dented. He let out a roar of frustration. A series of relentless slashes followed from Varon, driving the swordsman back, and forcing him to retreat.


    I picked up my bow, aiming it at my former master, but a cat mercenary stepped in front of me.


    ¡°It¡¯s not honorable, mate. These two want this duel,¡± the mercenary said, his tone wise.


    ¡°There is no honor among the Eldrins,¡± I spat.


    How many times had I had to save Varon from these situations? Now he would have to be on his own.


    Seizing the opening, Varon pressed the blonde swordsman toward the riverbank. With nowhere left to retreat, the swordsman took one last gambit, lunging for Varon¡¯s feet. Varon leaped into the air, his zweih?nder cleaving downward in a vicious arc.


    But the swordsman was faster. He rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the heavy blade as it slammed into the earth, sending a spray of mud and stones into the air.


    At that moment, and with Varon¡¯s zweih?nder stuck in the mud, the swordsman unleashed a horizontal slash of air that sliced a deep gash into Varon¡¯s neck. With a last cry, Varon met his opponent¡¯s gaze. He staggered back, blood pouring from his throat, his hand clutching at the wound in a futile attempt to stop the flow.


    Varon nodded slowly, a final act of respect to the warrior who had bested him, before he collapsed on one knee, his life slipping away.


    Varon had always treated me kindly, and as I watched his last breaths, a deep confusion settled in my heart.


    Beyond the gates, the last remaining Eldrin, Fautus, was pinned to the ground by bolts and arrows. A loud clang bellowed as the mace-wielder smashed the Eldrin¡¯s chestplate, a final spurt of blood erupting from his mouth before he collapsed, and slumped against the wall.


    The mercenaries moved in, finishing off the last of the Red Scythe. They made sure every raider lying on the ground, pierced by bolts and arrows, was truly dead. Then, they began looting the corpses, refitting their company with fresh weapons and armor, their grim task made easier by the slaughter.


    From the north, more freed Chattel arrived, drawn to witness Thornhill¡¯s miraculous stand.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re finally free,¡± a familiar voice said in an English accent, patting me on the shoulder. ¡°You have no idea how long I wanted to speak with you but was worried that you¡¯d¡­¡±


    He chuckled softly, then added, ¡°Rat me out.¡±


    He spoke English¡­ My God. He spoke English!


    ¡°You¡¯re that¡­ boar. You were a human from Earth this whole time?¡± I asked, still in disbelief.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± He smiled warmly, then glanced out at the carnage. ¡°Ugh. What a mess. This is going to take forever to clean up.¡±


    ¡°How? How is this possible? How did they do this?¡± I gasped, struggling to wrap my mind around it.


    "Thornhill? A humorless lot, but¡­ it¡¯s full of special people, mate. And now, it has at least one more¡ªif you¡¯ll join us, Cameron," James said, his smile widening as he gathered his Chattel followers and led them toward the gates. There, they were met by new faces¡ªfaces of modern-day Earthlings, their branded t-shirts and jeans visible beneath their leather and copper armor.


    They did it. They defended Thornhill. And what¡¯s even more incredible? It was an absolute massacre.


    As the Chattel gathered at the ruined gates of Thornhill, the villagers continued to sing, their voices rising in a powerful, unbroken chorus.


    Even though the Emancipated couldn¡¯t understand the words of the villagers¡¯ song, or the English in which they were sung, they felt it deep in their hearts and souls. They joined in the final encore, their voices rising, echoing over the battlefield:


    ? We will walk behind the plowshare


    we will put away the sword?


    Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of it all hit me. The tears I hadn¡¯t been allowed to shed during my captivity came rushing out all at once. I reached for my neck again, needing to make sure. It felt like the first time I touched my teeth with my tongue, expecting metal braces, and finding nothing¡ªa thousand times more relieving. It wasn¡¯t a dream. I fell to my knees, gripping the grass beneath me, as the full reality of my freedom settled over me. Tomorrow had finally come, and I was no longer a slave.


    There was a way to return to Fairhope. I could go back to Ashe and my people, save them just as I had been saved. The Magebane existed, and so did Sanctuary. There was a way to fight back against the Eldrins.

 Chapter 80

    Chapter 80


    Orion


    Day 68 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill: 56


    They are planning


    on using a group of 10 on


    rowboat to flank from


    the west shores!


    This was bad. I folded the message. James, our spy in the enemy ranks, had sent the message and I tied it back onto JD¡¯s leg to relay it back to Bianca. At times like this, I wished for more than one messenger bird. Thornhill needed a warning: raiders were coming by boat from the west, planning to torch the village and flank the defenders on the wall.


    My jackdaw familiar, JD, fluffed his feathers and drooped his wings slightly, a clear sign of exhaustion. I pulled out a strip of jerky and a potion vial, pouring half the liquid down his throat. The poor bird was overworked, but he had one more crucial task. Without him, I¡¯d lose my eyes in the sky and my ability to properly survey the land.


    ¡°Sorry, JD.¡± I patted his head, and he responded with an affectionate peck on my hand. ¡°One last job, and then I¡¯ll give you a long rest.¡±


    With a flutter of wings, JD sped southward toward Thornhill with James¡¯ warning.


    Pain throbbed in my leg and shoulders, a reminder of the beating I¡¯d taken in the last week. The stitches and elixirs Ethan patched me up with dulled it enough to keep moving, but every shift of weight still drew a wince. Perched on the highest branch of a towering elm, I steadied myself against the trunk, the looted spyglass in my hand.


    I swept the glass across the field in the distance. The enemy forces were in position, marching clustered by the river. Their movements seemed purposeful, unaware of the danger creeping behind them. Cass and I had spent hours circling, using the forest¡¯s shadows to mask our approach. JD¡¯s vision was invaluable for the task. Now, hidden and patient, we waited for the right moment to spring the trap.


    It wouldn¡¯t be long now.


    The night before, I had tested the limits of Cass¡¯s legendary Void Field ability, curious about what it could block. My Cyclopean Beam, Acid Spit, and Flight of the Harpy were blacked out. Deadly Shot and Strike of Iron appeared to bypass it, though I suspected the Void Field might dull their impact. Firewielder worked without issue, powered as it was by thermodynamics rather than magic.


    Cass was beneath me on Rudolph, bringing him to a canter around the base of the tree where I was scouting. A smile spread across his face as he flipped through his cards, searching for his new Riding skill.


    He still thought of this as a game.


    ¡°Rye!¡± Cass called from below, his sling at the ready. ¡°People are coming.¡±


    The distant sound of hooves grew louder¡ªtwo dozen riders from the north. ¡°Easy with the sling,¡± I said, lowering my eyeglass. ¡°They¡¯re Sophie¡¯s riders.¡±


    The approaching company was a ragtag sight: bronze and leather armor splashed with white paint, riding mismatched horses and mules. Compared to the Red Scythe¡¯s polished uniforms and insignias, it was disorderly.


    The captain rode forward¡ªa scarred tabby-faced mercenary I recognized from Kronfeldt¡¯s mercenary guild courtyard. His gravelly voice carried as he hailed me. ¡°You must be the Chattel liaison. The White Fox sends her regards. I¡¯m Bronzeclaw, captain of the White Fang Legion. We¡¯re under your command.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like to be called Chattel, so I flinched upon hearing it.


    ¡°Call me Orion.¡±


    ¡°Your orders? Lord Orion?¡±


    ¡°Follow me. When I give the signal, rush the enemy¡¯s backline. Spread out to cover as much ground as you can and do not let any of the Red Scythe escape. Your primary goal is to take out the archers.¡± I announced to the soldiers, a mix of wide-eye recruits, some greedy opportunists lured by Sophie¡¯s contract and graybeards.


    Bronzeclaw hesitated before speaking. ¡°We¡¯re only twenty men, sir. We can¡¯t handle the Red Scythe¡¯s magic or an entire army.¡±


    ¡°My village will deal with the bulk of the raiders. I¡¯ll handle the mages. Forty or so archers against twenty cavalry shouldn¡¯t be beyond your company. I understand you are fresh recruits, but¡­¡± I nearly scoffed.


    Bronzeclaw stiffened at the jab and gripped his sword. ¡°If it¡¯s as simple as you say, we¡¯ll manage.¡±


    ¡°One more thing,¡± I added. ¡°Don¡¯t kill the Chattel among them unless you must defend yourselves. The uncollared ones will surrender.¡±


    Bronzeclaw nodded, though his tail flicked with unease. ¡°Understood. Lead the way.¡±


    After Cass whispered in my ear, I let out a sigh. ¡°My younger brother here asks your pardon and wishes to touch your hair.¡±


    ¡°Touch my hair?¡± Bronzeclaw guffawed, his men chuckling along with him.


    ¡°Please, humor him,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear about it for the next hour.¡±


    The cat mercenary¡¯s ears twitched, and his face flushed slightly as I rode closer. Cass, grinning, reached out and gave the Bronzeclaw¡¯s cheek a tentative pat before stroking the fur on his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s like a real cat, Rye! But bigger!¡± Cass exclaimed, gently running his fingers over Bronzeclaw¡¯s unvisored face.


    ¡°Thank you, Captain,¡± I said, holding back a smirk. ¡°He¡¯s never seen a Beastkin like you before.¡±


    Bronzeclaw¡¯s whiskers twitched in what might have been amusement¡ªor embarrassment. ¡°Well, anything for a young soldier.¡± He saluted with a flat palm across his chest and gave a quick bow.


    ¡°Let¡¯s ride.¡± I nudged Rudolph, my elk, forward, leading the group into the forest. We would stalk the Red Scythe from cover, following the river south toward Thornhill¡¯s road.


    An hour into the ride, my heart seized at the sight of smoke curling on the horizon. I spurred Rudolph faster, and my stomach clenched as I caught sight of our watermill ablaze in the distance.


    Grinding my teeth, I turned to Cass. ¡°You ready?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± His reply came curtly, firm with resolve.


    I¡¯m sorry, Mom. There¡¯s really no other way.


    I ordered the Whitefangs to hold their position, concealed among the trees. They needed to remain hidden until the Red Scythe had no room to escape. Let them march right into our trap.


    From the outskirts of Thornhill near the wheat fields, I watched their mages work. Wisps of blue energy coalesced into a massive, glowing meteor. It streaked through the sky, slamming into our drawbridge. The destruction sent wood and iron splinters flying, and my jaw tightened as helpless rage burned through me.


    ¡°Turn it on,¡± I said to Cass.


    He had his Legendary Skill card, Void Field, ready. With a nod, he tapped it. Blue light flared before he pressed it to his palm, activating the barrier. I wheeled Rudolph back to the Whitefangs and shouted, ¡°Charge!¡±


    Rudolph lunged forward, his powerful hooves tearing through the underbrush. While horses generally outpaced elk over long distances, Rudolph was an exception. With Astrid¡¯s Animal Keeper skills and my Riding mastery, he had grown into a fierce, untiring mount. The other riders struggled to keep up as he surged ahead, a blend of brute strength and uncanny agility.


    The enemy wasn¡¯t prepared for an ambush from their flank. As the White Fang Legion surged forward to my left, my eyes remained on the Red Scythe mages.


    Cass¡¯ Void Field had unintended consequences. James was exposed now, his glamor dispelled, standing among a growing group of freed humans that formed an angry mob at their masters.


    A lone human rider bolted eastward into the hilly forests. Meanwhile, to the west, two Eldrins mounted Hadrelian¡¯s sleek steed and splashed across the river. I couldn¡¯t let either escape, but I had to make a choice on which one to go after first. One rider¡ªlikely Super Nine¡ªwould struggle to find Thornhill on a map if he escaped. The Eldrins, however, knew this land well and would gallop straight back to the Empire and return with reinforcements. A lot of reinforcements.


    I made my choice.


    Pointing at the fleeing Chattel rider, I yelled at Bronzeclaw who trailed beside me on a chestnut horse, ¡°Send two riders to capture that one!¡±


    Then I turned to James, who had the freed humans kneeling towards me as I approached to cross the river ford and chase after the two Eldrin on horseback.


    I cursed under my breath. ¡°Damn it, Jim.¡±


    The river ford splashed violently as Rudolph waded through, his powerful strides cutting through the water. I yanked a slab of pemmican from my pack, stuffing it into my mouth mid-ride, letting its buffs spread through me. My mind¡¯s eye flickered to JD, who delivered his message to Bianca and then returned, awaiting new orders. ¡°Follow the rider heading east,¡± I sent the familiar telepathically. He would keep an eye on the escaped Chattel rider while I dealt with the Eldrins.


    Despite the speed with which they fled, the two Eldrins on a single mount had a predictable fate. West of Thornhill, the dense forest of towering evergreens and maple trees gave way to jagged mountain ranges. Their horse wouldn¡¯t be able to climb the rocky slopes. Sure enough, they stopped at the base of a sheer granite cliff, its surface shimmering under the midday sun. The Eldrins dismounted, exchanging terse words in their own tongue.


    I pulled two throwing knives from my belt, dipping its blade into one of Anika¡¯s poisons. Hadrelian, the larger of the two, drew a long sword and pointed it at me in challenge while Drudus led their horse north, clearly searching for a way through the cliffside. It was a transparent tactic¡ªHadrelian was stalling to buy Drudus time.


    I ignored it. Drudus was the priority.


    ¡°Cass! Turn it off now!¡± I yelled.


    Cass deactivated his ability, and the glow of the Void Field vanished. Magic flared back to life in the area, but I was already in motion. Rudolph lunged forward, catching up to Drudus¡¯ retreating mount. I activated Flight of the Harpy, leaping from Rudolph¡¯s back and soaring above the fleeing Eldrin¡¯s mount. Cass pulled back, holding Rudolph steady.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    From above, I launched Acid Spit. The green, caustic glob hit Drudus square in the back, sizzling through his weaker, hastily-repaired armor. He screamed as the acid ate into his flesh. I descended, driving a boot into his shoulder and knocking him off the horse.


    The terrified animal reared and bolted but settled under my guidance, an easygoing and clever animal, regardless of rider.


    "My horse now,¡± I muttered, as I steadied myself on horseback.


    ¡°Turn it on!¡± I yelled again as Drudus hit the forest floor. He instinctively reached into his palm, searching for the power he had just lost. Cass, halting Rudolph, flared his card, activating Void Field once more and suppressing the Eldrin¡¯s magic entirely.


    Drudus fumbled with his card, but the moment it left his palms, the Void turned it black. Its power was severed. Before he could react, I hurled my poison-coated knife straight into the hand clutching his useless magic. The blade struck true, piercing through leather, and lodging deep in his palms.


    Desperation flickered in his eyes. With his free fist, he attempted some kind of last-ditch attack, holding his bared knuckles toward me as if invoking a spell. Nothing happened. His confusion morphed into rage as he inspected his hand, now trembling. He cursed in his native tongue. amid his rant, one word caught my attention: Super.


    Cass approached on Rudolph, calm yet alert. The elk''s heavy breaths mingled with the mage¡¯s ragged gasps as the acid and poison, black veins coursing up his arm, finished their work. Drudus, though dying, muttered fervent praise to some unknown deity, his faith carrying him through his final moments.


    It felt almost too easy with Cass here. Once Cass himself becomes as strong as me or even stronger¡­ not a single mage could stop him.


    One down, two more to go.


    Cass fumbled with the reins on Rudolph. I whistled for my mount to come closer.


    ¡°What now?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Stay back. Keep yourself and Rudolph safe. If Hadrelian calls for this horse... fire a sling at it. Make sure he doesn''t get on it,¡± I said, dismounting the white stallion I¡¯d taken from Drudus. It''d be a shame to let it die. My boots crunched over the mossy ground. ¡°I¡¯m going to fight Hadrelian. You remember the plan, right?¡±


    Cass nodded solemnly. ¡°Good luck!¡±


    ¡°If I die, ride Rudolph back to James. Have him send the Red Scythe after Hadrelian. He''ll know what to do.¡± I gave him a hard look. ¡°Focus on staying safe. Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t let you die, Rye,¡± Cass replied.


    The forest cleared ahead, revealing Hadrelian standing amidst blooming trees. Their pink petals swirled in the faint breeze, painting the ground in hues of rose and moss. He stood before the clearing, his eyes glimpsing his brother¡¯s corpse near where I stood. Tears welled up in his face before it was replaced by anger. Hadrelian¡¯s long red hair shimmered with fiery orange at the roots, tied back in a ponytail. His inhuman eyes¡ªbright orange, almost glowing¡ªfixed on me, then flicked toward Cass, who was partially hidden behind trees at the other end of the clearing.


    Hadrelian¡¯s lip curled into a predatory sneer, revealing elongated canines. From a jeweled scabbard, he drew a long, curved sword. Golden spirals on the black leather pommel reflected the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The weapon resembled an odachi.


    "So, it¡¯s true," Hadrelian growled. "You are the Erandor."


    He pulled a card, likely testing his power, but it too had gone black. With a sneer, he tossed it aside. Switching to Lokan, his voice turned cold. ¡°No matter. My strength was never built on magic alone, Erandor. I shall kill you in the old ways.¡±


    His gaze darted to Cass, who peeked out from behind a tree. A cruel grin spread across his face. ¡°The resemblance is uncanny. Too old to be your son... your younger brother, then. I¡¯ll shall repay what you have done to me, a thousandfold. First, I¡¯ll kill him, then you. Afterward, I¡¯ll march to your precious village, let the Beastkin do whatever they wish, and¡ª¡±


    I cut him off. With a quick motion, I pitched a Deadly Shot-charged knife toward the gap in his visor. Hadrelian¡¯s reflexes were unnaturally sharp; the blade never reached its mark, deflected mid-air with a quick flick of his sword.


    ¡°Off!¡± I yelled, signaling Cass. He reacted instantly, deactivating Void Field and restoring the magic in the area. A crackling surge built within me as I summoned a Cyclopean Beam, a high-intensity blast of energy aimed directly at Hadrelian.


    The beam struck his spaulder with a forceful impact, forcing him back a step. I adjusted my aim toward his neck, but the energy was drawn down, sucked into the red chest plate he wore. To my horror, the glow from the blast healed the armor, closing even minor scratches.


    Crap, that¡¯s not fair.


    ¡°ON!¡±


    Hadrelian charged, his curved sword drawn low, the blade glinting with cruel intent. He raised it in a sweeping arc aimed at my side. With Parry activated, I drew my left dagger just in time, deflecting his strike. The clang of metal-on-metal rang in my ears as his momentum carried his sword wide, leaving him vulnerable.


    I seized the opening, driving my left dagger forward toward his torso. But Hadrelian wasn¡¯t so easily undone. Twisting, he swung his blade like a batter at the plate, meeting the tip of my dagger with the flat of his sword. The impact sent my arm flying back, leaving me exposed.


    My heart sank as I glimpsed the card glowing faintly in his hand¡ªit was a Parry, the same card I used.


    That''s not fair!


    But I had no stun effect applied to me; the ring I had stolen from the scout nullified that effect. Hadrelian, unfazed, launched into a series of vicious slashes which pushed me back into the edge of the clearing near the blossoming trees he came from. His sword moved like it had a will of its own, a blinding whirlwind of iron forcing me to run. Pink petals were blown around him as his sword painted the air. His technique was masterful, leagues beyond mine¡ªyears of relentless practice and countless battles honed him into a swordsman I could never beat in a fair fight. I needed to cheat.


    ¡°OFF!¡±


    With a burst of magic, I activated Flight of the Harpy, soaring above his reach as his blade sliced harmlessly through the empty air. I reached into my satchel and pulled out two Molotovs. With a flick of my thumb, I ignited them and hurled them down. The clay shattered, flames erupting in a furious blaze that engulfed him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see you parry that,¡± I growled, activating Firewielder to enhance the inferno.


    Hadrelian panicked, pulling a card that shimmered in geometric wards around him. The flames quelled in a circle around him. Before I could regroup, he drew another card, this one etched with the unmistakable mark of a fireball.


    ¡°ON!¡±


    With the last of my Flight of the Harpy still active, I positioned myself directly above Hadrelian, climbing as high as I could before the Void Field dissolved my wings into blue wisps. Acting on instinct, I hurled a Molotov down at him, the clay container shattering on impact and igniting in a burst of fire. Without hesitation, I dove after it, my dagger aimed directly at his chest as I plummeted.


    Midair, I activated Strike of Iron and dove through the disappearing wards right towards Hadrelian¡¯s center. Hadrelian, still trying to summon cards to deal with the fires closing in on him, was caught unaware as my enhanced dagger thrust met his chest. The impact was explosive, like a hammer striking an anvil. Sparks erupted from his chest plate as my dagger drove into it, smacking him to the ground. Before he could react, I drew a poisoned blade and plunged it into the exposed flesh of his neck, a shallow cut.


    The man rasped through gritted teeth, his voice cracking with pain. His burned skin, raw and blackened, stretched across his neck and chest. Blood bubbled from his mouth as his ribs or lungs caved under my blow¡ªit didn¡¯t matter which. Black veins coursed through his neck, spreading towards his face. He glared at me defiantly before speaking.


    ¡°The Emperor will come for you, Erandor,¡± he gurgled. ¡°Do not doubt it. A thousand ships will blacken your shores. Your village will be consumed by the Divine Path. Your women and children will be bound in chains, and your men will die like cattle, slaughtered as they dare to stand against the inevitable.¡±


    I reached into my bag and tossed him a potion. A sleeping agent¡ªpoison, brewed to specification by Anika. Resting in my other hand was a real potion I would force down his mouth after he was knocked out. I had questions. He wouldn¡¯t die. Not yet.


    The man¡¯s lips twisted into a weak grin as he eyed the potion, a rasping laugh escaping him. ¡°You think I¡¯ll submit to your questioning? I¡¯ve seen the state of your victims¡¯ bodies. I¡¯m not so foolish. My brothers will come. My peers, too. Do you really believe the deaths of Eldrins and hundreds of men in one village will go unnoticed? They¡¯ll know soon enough. You can¡¯t hide forever, Erandor.¡±


    I crouched beside him, gripping the sleeping potion, ready to pour the potion down his throat. But before I could, he jerked upright, fueled by some last reserve of strength. Words spilled from his mouth in a language I didn¡¯t know. Then he pulled one of my daggers from his chest and dragged it across his throat.


    When Cass arrived later, he stood by the body, examining the race of his future mortal enemies. ¡°What did he say, Rye?¡±


    ¡°Nothing important,¡± I lied.


    There was no time to deal with the bodies. Cass pried Hadrelian¡¯s sword from his grip, its polished surface untouched by the flames. I took his white stallion¡ªan obedient beast that accepted me without protest¡ªand together, with Cass riding Rudolph, we galloped back to Thornhill. The Red Scythe¡¯s flanking attack couldn¡¯t wait.


    Smoke rose over Thornhill when we arrived. Flames licked at the rooftops of the beachside buildings. Villagers formed chains to ferry buckets of water, while golems hauled dirt to smother the fire. I joined them, calling on my Firewielder skill to control the blaze. For an hour, we fought the fires that the now-dead Red Scythe¡¯s flankers left in their wake. Only when the flames were out did I turn my attention to one final loose end.


    Closing my eyes, I connected my mind with JD¡¯s vision. The last I saw, I¡¯d sent him after Super, who had fled eastward on horseback.


    In my mind¡¯s eye, I found my familiar perched in a tree, his sharp eyes fixed on a clearing below. Three riders moved along the trail. At their head, a man on a white stallion paused. His hood hid most of his face, but his pale tattooed skin and the technicolor dreads spilling out were unmistakable.


    The two mercenaries from the White Fang Legion¡ªa boar and a badger¡ªwore shabby uniforms as they argued in halting Lokan. They were trying to convince Super Nine to return to Thornhill for questioning, explaining that all Chattel were being rounded up.


    Super just grinned, raising his fists to display a ring with a skull insignia. Moments later, two shadowy figures materialized beside him. They resembled hobgoblins, their glowing red eyes cutting through the gloom, shadowy machetes glinting in their hands. Before the mercenaries could react, the creatures hacked apart their horses in a frenzy. The men followed, screaming in horror as they desperately tried to defend themselves.


    Super¡¯s throwing knife flew with a flick of his wrist, striking one of the recruits, who was quickly finished off by the two shadows. He turned to the other, dragging it out, savoring the kill, and taking his time as the man pleaded for his life.


    Laughter bubbled up as the bloodstained Super clapped his hands in mock applause. With a smirk, he looted their supplies¡ªfood, waterskins, and whatever else the dead wouldn¡¯t need¡ªbefore his gaze shifted upward. His eyes locked onto JD, perched in the branches above.


    ¡°Ayo, it¡¯s the Stalker¡¯s bird!¡± Super jeered, pointing.


    Get out of there, JD!


    Before my familiar could take flight, Super blurred into motion, blinking between shadows on the forest floor. Silver cutlery seemed to leap from his hands as he launched them one after another, as if competing in a carnival game.


    JD darted away, but not fast enough. Blades grazed his breast and slashed his legs. His frantic wings beat against the air, carrying him out of range, though blood trailed in its wake.


    ¡°Here, birdie birdie! Where you going, fool? Fly back to that bitchass Stalker and ask what¡¯s up!¡± Super called, his laughter echoing through the trees.


    Pain. So much pain.


    Come to me, JD. I¡¯ll help you. Come to me!


    Hurt. Everything hurt.


    To me!


    When I finally found JD, night had fallen over the eastern forest. My familiar bond led me to find my familiar slumped in the hollow of a tree, bloody and barely clinging to life. It couldn¡¯t fly, couldn¡¯t move. My heart sank as I crouched beside him, pouring the last of my potion through its beak.


    I pushed you way too hard.


    I faced a grim decision. I could take it back to Ethan and hope he could mend JD''s wings and legs¡ªor I could press on after Super. Chasing him in the dead of night, exhausted and without JD to guide me, felt like stumbling in the dark.


    I sighed, shoulders heavy with frustration and fatigue. I couldn¡¯t lose JD and I wasn''t going to find Super without him. I returned to the village.


    The following days were slow and bitter. Ethan worked tirelessly to mend JD¡¯s wings, but recovery would take time, several weeks. Without my familiar, scouting the dense forests for Super became a tedious effort. He had vanished into the wilderness, leaving no trail to follow.


    The next day, I joined the Whitefang mercenaries in a search for the thief. It took us two days to sweep the eastern hills, where we found the bodies of the two recruits. They were stripped of their belongings, their corpses picked clean by jackdaws and maggots.


    The thief¡¯s trail had gone cold. Super could be anywhere by now.

 Chapter 81

    Chapter 81


    Astrid


    Day 68 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 56


    They say war is terrifying, but experiencing it? Imagine your heart smashing against your chest, your neck sore from constantly swiveling, your ears ringing as the person next to you shrieks in terror. The cursing... the cursing is everywhere. People screaming out the faintest observations. Vile curses out of the mouths of people you¡¯d hardly expect¡ªpriests and mothers. Every action you take feels both impossibly fast and painfully slow, no matter how many times you¡¯ve practiced it.


    Somehow, our bard guided us through the chaos, his voice weaving through the air like a lifeline, connecting every villager on the wall and pulling them away from the horrors of battle with the hope of reaching distant shores far removed from bloodshed. The sheer panic, the bone-deep terror that gripped us as the enemy surged forward, their alien faces twisted with vengeance¡ªit all faded, just a little, under his song.


    But if I stopped singing for even a second, the horror would crash in on me. Around me, the sights were unbearable: smoke, blood, and broken bodies everywhere. Most of all, the horror of the villagers doing whatever they could to push back the wave.


    Roza, her belly swollen with child, hurled Molotovs, using Marek¡¯s broad, armored body as cover. Her husband fired arrow after arrow from his longbow, spitting curses in Polish. Between throws, she shoved more arrows into his hands, which he shot with precision and speed. The couple worked in unison, determined to ensure the danger outside wouldn¡¯t seep into the shelter where their precious children were hiding.


    On the shattered wall near the gate, Bart and Jesus were locked in their usual rivalry. Like dueling pistons, they exchanged arrows while tallying their kills.


    ¡°That one got deflected!¡± Jesus shouted, squinting as he nocked another arrow. ¡°You¡¯re still at two!¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Bart snapped, not even glancing at him. ¡°A hit¡¯s a hit!¡±


    Jesus grinned, letting his next arrow fly. It struck true, and he pumped his fist in triumph. ¡°Hits don¡¯t count if they don¡¯t drop. That¡¯s four, pendejo!¡±


    Bart¡¯s jaw clenched as he lined up another shot, hell-bent on catching up.


    ¡°This fucking bow is fucking broken! Let¡¯s trade.¡± Bart yelled back, grabbing another arrow.


    Jes¨²s chuckled, shaking his head as he readied another arrow. ¡°Ain¡¯t your bow that¡¯s broke, homes, it¡¯s your eyes! That¡¯s five!¡±


    ¡°Shit shit shit shit! Get that rat fucker on the left. He¡¯s getting too close!¡± Bart hollered.


    Not everyone shared the enthusiasm of the seasoned classholding blacksmiths. Many villagers hesitated, peeking out from cover to fire a single bolt before ducking back down. Fear overwhelmed them when they caught a brief glimpse of the endless horde approach. It took them every ounce of courage they had to continue; they gathered it and had it bolstered by the bard¡¯s hymn. With their resolve strengthened, they reloaded their crossbows and fired again.


    Even Ethan, our healer, was on the wall, wielding a crossbow, his blacked-rimmed glasses hanging off his shirt collar. He wouldn¡¯t head back to the triage station unless things got bad enough that the injured started piling up.


    It didn¡¯t take long. An arrow slipped through the barricade and sank into Aiden¡¯s thigh near Ethan. Bravely, Aiden sucked in a breath, trying not to cry out and distract the other defenders. His hand reached for the shaft, but Ethan barked, ¡°Don¡¯t pull it out!¡±


    Aiden hesitated. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°Can you still shoot?¡± Ethan yelled, barely looking up as he loosed another bolt.


    Aiden grabbed an arrow and nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Then leave it. Keep shooting. I¡¯ll deal with it later!¡± Ethan reloaded, his voice steady despite raising his voice to be heard over the singing and chaos of battle.


    The injured teenager grimaced but kept firing through the cracks in the wall.


    Outside, the barbarians had reached fifty yards before the moat. A giant stone flew over us that made me catch my breath before landing dead center on a crowd of them. They fell by the dozens, their screams piercing the air as they tumbled into the Death Pit. Skewered on spears and writhing, some begged for mercy in their alien language.


    But there was no mercy here¡ªnot for them, not for us. Our singing grew louder, drowning it out.


    They were the enemy; I reminded myself over and over, but that didn¡¯t make it any less horrifying. Just months ago, we were all far removed from war and lived comfortable lives in cement cities. People who had heard about atrocities only on the news. Now, we were fighting tooth and nail to defend the fragile little dot we called home in this strange, merciless world.


    Knees buckled, hands shook, but we kept firing, knowing if we didn¡¯t we would be on the end of the anger behind those alien faces. The enemy pressed harder, climbing over rafts made of shattered and burned wood and bloated corpses with bolts jutting out of their backs floating in the moat. They pushed through the mud and water, clawing closer to the gate.


    ¡°Keep firing!¡± Bianca¡¯s voice rang out.


    We obeyed, arrows flying as the song on our lips wavered as they got closer to the walls, but never stopped. Cade, our guard who was nearest the gate, shouted something to Alex as the first into the breach approached the blown-out gates. Without hesitation, the two strongest warriors of Thornhill set their longbows aside and scrambled down the walls, sword and spear ready to meet the enemy at the choke point.


    I stayed on the wall, one of the few with enough strength to draw a longbow thanks to my class perks. A bin of arrows sat between me and Bianca, quickly dwindling as we fired. Bianca¡¯s face was a mask of fierce concentration, her arrows landing with deadly precision thanks to her Path of the Marksman ability. Every shot was a kill, her movements as smooth and rhythmic as a heartbeat.


    Then, the unexpected shattered our well-laid plans. A dark blue corvid swooped in from above, gliding far out of range of the arrows. It startled Bianca as it landed on her shoulder, a rolled-up note tied to its leg. She grabbed it quickly, parsing it as the bird took off again, no doubt following fresh orders from its sender.


    Her eyes widened in alarm, and she spat a curse. ¡°Damn it, Rye! You¡¯ve got to be kidding me! This can¡¯t be real!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I reached for the note, and she thrust it at me, her hand trembling.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have anyone to spare on the walls! What does he want from me?¡± Bianca cried desperately.


    The moment I read the words, my breath hitched, and panic gripped my chest like a vise.


    They are planning


    on using a group of 10 on


    rowboat to flank from


    the west shores!


    ¡°M-my animals...¡±


    Panic surged through me as I looked backward to the sea where my pens were. Without waiting for anyone, I climbed down the parapet ladder, my heart racing. Olive, my trusty elk, stood hitched nearby, pawing at the ground as though she could feel my urgency.


    ¡°Astrid!¡± Bianca called after me as she kept loosing arrows from the wall. ¡°Just wait a minute! We¡¯ll go together! Astrid, don¡¯t leave your post yet! Astrid!!!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t let them hurt my animals!¡± I yelled back, already riding my elk south.


    I pushed Olive hard, urging her to her limits. Aja, my loyal canine companion, bounded alongside us, tongue lolling as she struggled to keep pace. The improved roads we¡¯d built made the ride faster, leading from the northern walls straight to the heart of the village¡ªpast Shelter Two, the warehouse, the hostel, and then onward toward my animal pens.


    On the seaside horizon, black smoke billowed, stark against the sky. It rose from the direction of the beach shelter.


    No. Don¡¯t tell me they¡¯re already there. My animals!


    When I reached the beach, my worst fears were confirmed. Ten men had stormed our shore. Their canoe, a hollowed-out log, sat on the sand, abandoned, with oars scattered nearby. Footprints trailed up the beach to Shelter One, already engulfed in flames. They¡¯d wasted no time torching it and were now making their way uphill¡ªstraight toward my animal pens and coop.


    I spurred Olive westward toward the river where my animal pens lay, the fury in my chest blazing hotter than the fire that engulfed the Beach Shelter.


    Nine of them¡ªseven Beastkin and two Humans¡ªmarched forward, torches flaring in their hands. At their head strode a tall elf with long ears and short, slicked-back orange hair streaked with red. His sneer was as sharp as his movements in his light bronze and leather armor. A crossbow rested easily in his grip, and with a commanding gesture, he pointed toward my silkworm hut and animal pens, singling them out as targets.


    The Beastkin followed his lead: three gnolls with yellowed eyes carried spears, their hunched forms bristling with anticipation. Two frog-like creatures held torches, their slick, glistening skin reflecting the flames they carried. A gnoll with rippling muscles wielded an axe, and a black-furred ratman, twitchy and alert, had a crossbow of his own. At the rear, two humans, collared and stood clutching crossbows.


    I skidded Olive to a halt just in time to see them set fire to my silkworm hut. The flames erupted, and it felt like a thousand tiny screams echoed in my mind. All my work¡ªthe months I¡¯d spent raising and feeding the worms¡ªwas reduced to ash in seconds.


    Laughter and grins spread across their faces as they reveled in the destruction, smashing the wooden boards and tossing the trays of cocoons over like so much confetti.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Then something strange happened. The collars on the human raiders fell off, and they immediately knelt. Their Elf captain started yelling at them and pointing his crossbow in threat before the freed human slaves started to bolt and run off into the forests. Before the Elf could chase after them, he spotted me in the distance.


    Aja bristled her cream-colored fur, growing to the size of a timberwolf, and let out a low, menacing snarl. Her hackles rose as she reflected the rage that bubbled up within me.


    The Elf captain smirked, raising his crossbow as though he had all the time in the world. Behind him, the Beastkin fanned out, their postures shifting as they prepared to attack.


    But I moved first.


    I raised my crossbow and let the bolt fly¡ªit struck the ratman square in the face. He dropped with a piercing squeal, his weapon clattering to the ground.


    Nearby, the elf captain loosed an arrow at Aja. It sank into her side, but she didn¡¯t falter, surging forward into the fray as he scrambled to reload.


    Aja launched herself at the nearest frogkin, her teeth sinking into its slick arm as it let out a guttural croak. The yellow-skin frog was dragged down and the dog went after the raider¡¯s throat. His partner, another green-skin frog closed in with a short sword in hand.


    I didn¡¯t waste a second. Tossing my crossbow aside, I pulled the whip hanging from my belt¡ªa recent prize from the dungeon, reforged by our blacksmiths. It uncoiled in my hand, its length gleaming like polished bronze links.


    Spiked Whip of Long Reach - D


    Whip extends 1 meter longer on attack


    The whip¡¯s handle, carved from a polished tusk with copper inlays, felt solid and heavy in my grip. Its bronze chains bristled with cruel, inch-long spikes. No mercy. Not for those who torched my home or dared harm my animals.


    The gnolls were first to suffer. Three of them had barely thrown open the gate to my pig pen when I lashed out, my whip slicing through the air with a shrieking crack. The spiked chain swept their legs, tearing into flesh as I yanked hard, knocking them off their feet. They hit the ground with heavy thuds, their calves bloodied and raw. The boars in the pen, furious, charged out to defend their territory. Tusks gouged deep into the raiders¡¯ sides before the boars began to consume their invaders.


    Pigs will eat anything.


    One of them tried to get up, only for me to continue beating him down with slashes across the chest.


    A fourth gnoll, separate from the trio being consumed by the boars, charged toward me from the left. This one was larger than the others, had a scarred eye, full bronze plate, and wielded a raised axe. I let my whip fly, activating Disarm. The spiked chain wrapped around the wrist, holding his weapon. With a pull, the axe tore free, leaving his mangled hand dangling uselessly off his arm by a string. Staggering and screaming, he barely had time to register what happened before I snapped the whip again. This time, it wrapped around his neck, the spikes biting deep. As I yanked it tight, the chain tore through flesh and spine, leaving him a headless corpse.


    The pure violence didn¡¯t faze me. My only focus was on the month of work reduced to ashes¡ªand how I would make those animals pay for it.


    Meanwhile, Aja had one frog pinned, her fangs sinking into its neck. The other frog crept behind her with a short sword raised high. My heart stopped as the blade came down, biting deep into her backside.


    ¡°Aja!¡± I screamed, but my voice was drowned by her wail of pain.


    In her fury, she twisted, her jaws snapping into the attacking frog¡¯s groin. Its howl was almost human as it collapsed, blood gushing from the ruin of its body.


    The elf stood at the center of the chaos, calm and deadly, activating a spell card as he fired his gleaming crossbow.


    The bolt struck Aja square in the belly. My bloodied familiar pounced towards the captain, but not before he produced a dagger and slashed Aja across the face, leaving only blue dust vanishing into my palms.


    An inhuman roar tore from my throat. My vision blurred, everything sharpening into a single focus: kill that elf!


    I sprang forward, whip coiled like a viper. I lashed at him, again and again, my strikes raining down in a storm of metal and fury. He parried the barrage of whips with his dagger and kept backstepping towards the forest that lined the river. Most of my strikes found only his bronze cuirass or leather guards, but the ones that landed made him stagger. Still, he moved like a dancer, weaving and twisting out of reach, his smirk taunting me.


    He reached into a pouch, pulling out a glowing blue vial. As he downed it, his speed doubled, and he sprinted toward the woods.


    ¡°Coward!¡± I snarled, chasing after him. Each step fueled by rage, I barely heard the pounding footsteps behind me or the frantic shouts.


    ¡°Astrid, stop!¡± Bianca¡¯s voice broke through my haze.


    I glanced back briefly to see her arriving with Slate and Crag, both burdened with buckets of dirt, presumably to smother the fires. Anika and Sophie followed on horseback, shouting warnings, their faces etched with alarm.


    ¡°Don¡¯t follow him!¡± Bianca yelled. ¡°You¡¯ll be alone in the woods!¡±


    But I was deaf to reason. My beehives were in those woods, and I would not let the elf destroy any more things I built and cared for.


    ¡°Get back here, you fricking coward!¡± I yelled.


    Adrenaline carried me forward, past the trees. My eyes kept darting from one tree to the next, trying to find where he had gone.


    Then suddenly, as if I crashed into a wall, I was stopped short by a searing pain in my right eye. I staggered, clutching at my face as blood blurred half my vision. Through the haze, I spotted him through my red vision¡ªa man perched high on a tree branch, crossbow in hand, calmly reloading.


    My fingers brushed the shaft of the bolt embedded in my face. The realization hit like a hammer: he¡¯d got me in the eye.


    He smirked, shouting something in a language I didn¡¯t understand, his voice filled with mocking triumph. His crossbow pointed at the hand gripping my whip, a spell card glowing in his other hand as he activated it.


    Then came the sound.


    A low, rising hum that mushroomed into a deafening buzz. A dark, living cloud surged from the woods¡ªthousands of tiny, black-and-orange bodies. My bees.


    The swarm engulfed the crossbowman in seconds, their furious wings drowning out his curses. He flailed, his concentration shattered, and the bolt he loosed went wide, striking my shoulder and sinking just shallowly into my bronze chestplate.


    The pain was instant and alien, a freezing burn that spread from the wound like frost creeping over skin. I gasped, my knees buckling, but I couldn¡¯t look away.


    The crossbowman lost his footing, slipping on the branch as he swatted at the relentless bees. With a sickening crack, he hit the ground, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.


    I barely registered the impact before the world tilted. The buzzing surrounded me, mingling with distant shouts¡ªBianca¡¯s frantic screams and the elf¡¯s gurgling cries as the swarm buried him in a black tide.


    The pain in my shoulder and face became distant, my vision narrowing to a dark tunnel. The last thing I saw was the blur of orange and black wings before everything went dark.


    <hr>


    By the time I woke, I was inside Shelter Two. I recognized it through the haze of memory as our triage station. I lay on a stretcher, a fur blanket that felt like a lead anvil weighing my body down, a woman with graying brown hair beside me, praying softly as she clutched my left hand.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you leave me too, Astrid. Oh, please, God. Take me instead. Please, just take me instead,¡± she sobbed, her voice breaking with despair.


    My eyes peeked open, but my body felt numb. My muscles would not move on my command.


    A short distance away, Ethan was tending to the wounded. I watched through lidded eyes, dazed, as he leaned over Aiden, carefully working an arrowhead free from the young man¡¯s thigh. His tool¡ªa strange cross of tongs and corkscrew. Sweat glistened on Ethan¡¯s brow, but his hands stayed steady, unwavering as he drew out the last fragment and set to stitch the wound.


    Somewhere nearby, Anika knelt by a trembling man, a woodburner from our village. His hands shook uncontrollably, and he recoiled slightly as she approached. Gently, she offered him a cup of tea. He managed a sip, but the cup slipped from his quivering hands and shattered on the floor. The crash sent him into a panic; he clutched his head and covered his ears, a whimpering cry escaping his lips. Anika stayed calm, speaking low and soothing, her hands hovering near but not touching, giving him space to feel safe.


    He was one of many she comforted that day.


    Sleep tugged me under again, surfacing only in snatches, and each time I woke, I could only catch glimpses, still numb, my limbs heavy. Ethan worked on another patient then¡ªa girl around my age, with long blonde hair, beautiful in her fragile way. I didn¡¯t recognize her from our village. She sat with one hand gripping her arm, her mouth a hard line, pain held back by the tightness of her expression.


    Ethan murmured something, his voice calm and his manner gentle, as if he were soothing a trapped wolf. He held up a blue card before her, and then moved to examine a mark¡ªpossibly a bruise¡ªat her collar. But she jerked back, swatting away his hands with a flash of defiance and panic before closing in on herself like a turtle retreating into its shell.


    Without a word, he moved on to seek advice from another person, joining Anika as she tended to another injured man, both of them glancing back at the girl now and then. She had drawn in on herself, shivering, each sob tight and silent, as if she feared the sound would break something inside her. Together they gave her space and eventually, through meditation and translation, Anika managed to treat her.


    Again, I would slip back into a daze.


    Like the fading numbness after a dentist¡¯s visit, my body slowly reclaimed its freedom. I felt my toes first, then my fingers stir, warmth spreading from them, a soothing comfort, as though a motherly hand held mine, wrapped in the quiet reassurance of something as familiar as the scent of baked cookies.


    When Ruth felt my hand move against hers, she froze, eyes wide, then covered her mouth, tears streaking her face. ¡°Thank the Lord. You¡¯re alive! You¡¯re alive, Astrid! You¡¯re alive, you¡¯re alive, you¡¯re alive!¡±


    A pained gasp escaped me as she pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry, Astrid,¡± Ruth mumbled, letting go as soon as she realized she¡¯d hurt me.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I rasped, my mouth dry, each breath heavy and labored.


    After giving a final warning to take it easy, Ethan made his way over to me, his face a mix of compassion and something else¡ªpity. I could feel dread knotting in my chest.


    ¡°You¡¯re up,¡± he said, trying to keep his voice light.


    ¡°It¡¯s a miracle, Ethan. You¡¯re a miracle worker,¡± Ruth exclaimed, still clinging to hope.


    Ethan shook his head. ¡°No, Astrid¡¯s a strong girl. She wouldn¡¯t die from something like this. What worried me more was the poison. Luckily, the Eldrins used sedatives instead of lethal toxins. I was worried there for a while.¡±


    I swallowed, fear crawling up my throat. ¡°My eye¡­ did you save it?¡± I forced the words out, barely able to speak. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to reach for my eye or bear to face the truth.


    Ruth¡¯s face crumpled, and she turned away, her sobs muffled as she placed her hands over her face. I looked at Ethan, my heart pleading for any sign of hope.


    He sighed, his gaze drifting to the floor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Astrid. I couldn¡¯t save your eye.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I whispered, disbelief choking me. ¡°Don¡¯t you have some magic skill to fix it? You can fix it¡­¡±


    Ethan¡¯s eyes fell even lower. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡± I snapped, my voice raw with desperation. ¡°You have a class, don¡¯t you? You can make it whole again, can¡¯t you?!¡±


    ¡°The damage was too much,¡± Ethan murmured, his voice gentle but distant. ¡°There was no way to save it. I¡¯ll stay with you while you recover¡ª¡±


    ¡°Useless! You¡¯re fricking useless!¡± I shouted, cutting him off. ¡°What can you even do, Ethan? Anyone can sew us up and shove potions down our throats! What can you do?!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s just angry, Ethan. Don¡¯t take it personally,¡± Ruth whispered, her voice trembling with worry.


    ¡°Don¡¯t speak for me, Ruth!¡± I hissed, the words harsher than I meant. ¡°I¡¯m not your dead son! Don¡¯t live through me. Just¡­ if you both can¡¯t help me, just LEAVE ME ALONE!¡±


    I pulled the blankets over my head, shrinking into myself, consumed by grief and fury. My mind spiraled. I couldn¡¯t be seen like this. Not now. Not ever.


    I¡¯m deformed. They¡¯ll never look at me the same. I¡¯m a freak now, or worse, a charity case.


    Tears filled my one good eye as I wept into the blankets. Thornhill may have won, but I felt like I had lost everything.

 Chapter 82

    Chapter 82


    Bianca


    Day 69 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 71


    We should be celebrating, right?


    Victory was ours. We stripped the enemy of their gear and buried their bodies in the death pit. The mercenaries assisted in gathering the dead and salvaged whatever equipment they could to refit their company. While the mercenaries took the raiders'' armor and weapons, the villagers claimed the abandoned wagons and a few surviving mules that had not been consumed by the army.


    But the cost of victory was heavy. Shelter One¡ªthe beach shelter¡ªwas burned to the ground, along with the silkworm hut. And the human cost? Many defenders were left injured, both physically and mentally.


    We are now facing a housing crisis. One shelter has been lost, and the other is being used as a temporary infirmary. Adding to this strain, Thornhill has fifteen new arrivals, in addition to the four former slaves we took in before the raid. Before this latest influx, most villagers had already been relocated to the new hostel, which accommodates around forty people. Many had moved out of the old shelters to sleep in the new hostel, the pirate ship, or, in Marek¡¯s case, his own house.


    The beach shelter still housed four residents, including Herman, who preferred to live near the water. One of our long-term goals had been to rebuild it as a fishing headquarters with separate bedrooms for the fishermen, but that plan has now gone up in smoke.


    That night, we used every roof we could find to house the new arrivals. The mess hall, the church, and even the warehouse and smithy were repurposed as temporary shelters. The sudden influx made the village feel overcrowded, and the original villagers¡ªthe Earthlings¡ªgrumbled throughout the day. As a result, we held a meeting to address the post-raid situation.


    The day after the raid, we gathered at the mess hall for a short meeting. People wanted answers. The villagers stared at the newcomers¡ªthe Emancipated, as they were called¡ªstanding nervously under our scrutiny.


    ¡°Who are these people?¡± Tiffany asked.


    A black-haired man, noticeably different from the other Emancipated, stepped forward. A silver bow was strapped to his back alongside a carob-wood quiver, and an olive-green cloak draped over his shoulders. His English was crisp and clear as he spoke: ¡°We are former slaves. We were captured by the raiders you slew, and somehow¡­ we managed to free ourselves from their magical chains.¡±


    The crowd erupted into murmurs, wondering how one of them could speak unaccented English with such clarity.


    Marek, always suspicious, narrowed his eyes. ¡°Why were you with the enemy? Are you spies? And why do you have a bow?¡±


    Cameron¡¯s looked solemn. ¡°We were forced. Magical collars controlled us and compelled us to fight and serve a race of people called the Eldrins. When we neared Thornhill, the collars stopped working. I believe this place has a barrier¡ªone that breaks magic and frees Chattel. Legend speaks of a place called Sanctuary where all Chattel are free. We believe this is the place.¡±


    My chest tightened. I glanced toward the forest. Where are you, Rye? Why aren¡¯t you here?


    ¡°They want to stay? Like permanently?¡± someone asked.


    Cameron nodded. ¡°They believe this place is sacred and wish to remain.¡±


    More murmurs broke out. Not all were kind.


    ¡°They look like decent folk¡­ I think¡­¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no room for them!¡± Someone snapped.


    ¡°Where will we house them? We barely have houses for ourselves!¡±


    ¡°How will we feed everyone?¡±


    ¡°Bianca¡­ what does the council say?¡±


    The questions flew at me like arrows, but I stood my ground. ¡°I spoke with Father Gallagher, and we¡¯ll use the church as a temporary shelter for our new residents. Over the next few days, I¡¯ll integrate them into the village and organize the construction of new shelters.¡±


    ¡°Bianca, you can¡¯t be serious! They¡¯re outsiders!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sharing my room!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no space¡­ how can we feed them? We barely have any rations to spare.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t even know who they are or where they came from¡­¡±


    I raised a hand, silencing the crowd. ¡°If we send them away, they¡¯ll tell others about this place, and that will bring trouble. This isn¡¯t up for debate. If we want to grow as a village, we need them.¡± My voice was firm as I swept my gaze across the room.


    The response was mixed. Some villagers exchanged wary glances, conflicted. The room filled with low murmurs, uncertainty rippling through the crowd. No one outright objected, but the tension hung thick in the air.


    Then James stepped forward. His calm voice carried through the room. ¡°Bianca is right,¡± he said. ¡°Many of them have skills that will benefit us. Cameron is a Ranger¡ªa skilled hunter who can provide fresh meat. We have another Cook and a Carpenter among them. The rest are ready to help with building and farming. They¡¯ll be a great asset to the village.¡±


    His words worked like a balm on the unease. I watched as doubt gave way to reason on the villagers¡¯ faces. People nodded, their initial resistance softening as they saw the sense in James¡¯ argument.


    Thank God for his Diplomat class.


    ¡°Guys, let¡¯s welcome our new villagers with open arms. Remember how hard it was for you when you first arrived? Let¡¯s pay that forward, okay?¡± I tried reassuring them but the villagers still looked unsure, some shrugging, others just wanting to go about their business.


    ¡°We¡¯ll keep a few people on watch on the walls for now,¡± I said, building on the momentum James had created. ¡°The rest can prepare food for tonight¡¯s feast. And if anyone has injuries, I don¡¯t care how minor you think they are¡ªcheck in with Anika and Ethan. James, make sure the new arrivals understand that. Translate for them.¡±


    James and Cameron took on the task of helping the Emancipated settle in. I wanted to give them time to rest, to avoid making it seem like they were trading one master for another. But they worked with an energy that surprised me¡ªlike the freedom to choose made all the difference.


    Unlike those of us who had come from a world of comforts and conveniences, the Emancipated needed little. They cherished what we gave and worked diligently as if determined to prove their worth. It was humbling to watch. Their gratitude reminded me that Thornhill was becoming something bigger than I had imagined¡ªa home for the lost and the brave.


    The Emancipated weren¡¯t like the other new arrivals from Earth who had come from a world of comforts and luxuries. They needed so little to get by. They cherished what we gave them and worked hard without complaint.


    If only we could build a whole city of people like this... No, that¡¯s an awful thought. But they want to be here, don¡¯t they? They see this place as their Holy Land.


    One of the Chattel, Gaius, had a Cook class like Orion. He skillfully butchered a deer and some geese Cameron had caught, though there was some awkwardness as he worked with Gladys and Vesper to prepare our feast. Despite the tension, Gaius balanced subservience to the more experienced cooks with moments of leadership, teaching the classless workers how to butcher the animal properly.


    The freed slaves spent their days looking busy¡ªor awkwardly wandering the village, trying to find ways to help. Their eagerness worried me. I showed them our coin system, and Sophie, fluent in their language, explained how they could earn copper coins. For the first time, they were paid for their work.


    This was a growth phase for us, but the transition wasn¡¯t smooth. While the Emancipated were a net positive, many of the survivors were wary, even suspicious, of the newcomers.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    The next morning, I attended a council meeting with James newly added as our official Diplomat and Immigration Officer while Ethan was still tied up at Shelter Two, our temporary hospital.


    Orion had returned late last night after trying to track Super. He looked exhausted, stifling a yawn as he slumped into his seat.


    ¡°What happened to Astrid? I¡¯ve got a new horse for her to take care of. Plus all those mules we looted. We¡¯re going to need a stable soon,¡± Orion yawned.


    "She¡¯s still recovering," I said softly. "Ethan says she¡¯ll pull through, but¡­ she lost an eye." I hesitated. "It¡¯s hitting her hard."


    ¡°That sucks. She¡¯s kind of important.¡± Orion said, stretching.


    ¡°Can you talk to her, Rye? She¡¯s really angry, and I think you might be able to get through to her,¡± I said, to which Orion raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°That¡¯s a really bad idea¡­¡± Orion murmured.


    "One of the Emancipated, Vibia, tended animals on her farm," James remarked. "I dare say she¡¯d be an excellent choice to fill in while our poor Astrid is sidelined."


    Orion nodded but seemed distracted. Sophie leaned forward against Orion who sat next to her at the council meeting, twirling her hair playfully as she smirked. ¡°Orion, about that white horse¡­ can I have it? I¡¯ll make it worth your while~¡±


    Orion rolled his eyes. ¡°What do you want with it?¡±


    ¡°Are you heading back to Kronfeldt soon?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, collapsing dramatically into her chair. ¡°I¡¯ve got some business to take care of and I need to give the White Fox new orders.¡±


    Orion ground his teeth. ¡°The horse is yours if you can find any information about Super. Use whatever connections you have in Kronfeldt. He¡¯s either there, in Port Havensreach, or lying low in one of the surrounding villages. Bring me information on him. Then we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    "I¡¯ll see what I can do," Sophie said, smirking slightly.


    ¡°Also¡­ I want some of the White Fang mercenaries to help me build my tavern,¡± Orion added casually.


    ¡°What?¡± I blurted. ¡°That¡¯s not fair, right? Like dozens of people still need homes, and you want to build your personal tavern?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my money and I doubt they¡¯ll do construction work outside their Mercenary contract without pay,¡± Orion replied, lifting a hefty bag onto the table. When I opened it, hundreds of golden coins gleamed inside, each stamped with the image of a queen on one side and a phoenix on the other.


    Sophie¡¯s eyes widened, a greedy glint shining through. ¡°My, my, my¡­ you¡¯ve been holding out on us, darling,¡± she said, stroking the coins.


    ¡°Rye¡­¡± I said, trying to keep calm. ¡°This isn¡¯t right. The villagers¡­ they¡¯ll think it¡¯s unfair.¡±


    Orion sighed before speaking. "I¡¯ll give half the money to Thornhill as taxes. You can use it to pay half the White Fang to build your shelters, and the other half will work on my tavern. In return, I want your quarry golem to help me dig out a cellar."


    "I agree with Orion," Sophie added. "The White Fang mercenaries are already here. We can tell them to help with construction, but they¡¯re sellswords¡ªthey need to be paid to do extra work. This way, we address the shelter shortage and keep them occupied. Besides, we won¡¯t need them to patrol the trade route between Kronfeldt and Thornhill until the road is fully built, anyway."


    "But he gets an entire tavern to himself while people are still struggling to find homes? The optics aren¡¯t great¡­" I said, uncertain.


    "Orion brought in the money," Sophie replied smoothly. "If you want to encourage growth, you can¡¯t discourage initiative. Personal enterprise like this can benefit everyone if managed well. You¡¯re never going to keep everyone equal here, Bianca."


    "Fine," I said with a sigh. I didn¡¯t like it, but it was fair. He was giving Thornhill half the money and half the workers. Still, I couldn¡¯t shake my concern. Orion¡¯s reputation with the villagers had already taken a hit after the battle, with many thinking he ran away. Now, building a tavern for himself would only make things worse. But, as always, he didn¡¯t seem to care what they thought.


    Sophie tapped her chin thoughtfully. ¡°On the topic of coin¡­ about the silver collars we collected¡ªI think we should melt them down to mint new silver coins. Copper¡¯s too valuable to waste; we¡¯ll need it for our upcoming projects. Eventually, we¡¯ll transition to silver and gold, and later, paper currency. It¡¯s a necessary step if we want a functional, scalable economy.¡±


    ¡°Upcoming project?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Copper wires,¡± Anika explained.


    ¡°Ah¡­ you mean like¡­ electricity?¡±


    "Yes, we have a glassblower now," Anika said, her tone deliberate. "But one of our biggest challenges is the amount of resources consumed by lamp fuel. If we can construct a generator powered by waterwheels and Sophie can use her connections to source tungsten, we could produce light bulbs. It would be a game-changer for efficiency and resource management."


    Oh man, that would be so great¡­ no more stumbling in the dark for lamps and torches.


    Later, we moved on to discuss the new arrivals and how to integrate them into the village. It felt like we were back at the beginning, trying to find roles for everyone in our growing community.


    "Most of them should focus on farming and building," Anika suggested. "Instead of another shelter, we should construct a larger tenement with room to expand."


    "We¡¯ve got a carpenter among them," James said. "Several sturdy men who¡¯ll make fine builders, and a number of women who have farming experience. We could also spare a few more for fishing. And, of course, there¡¯s a cook who won¡¯t vanish the moment adventure calls."


    That last comment earned a rare smile from Orion.


    "What about the watermill?" I asked.


    "It can wait," James replied. "The next wheat harvest is still some time off. Samar wants to expand her fields to the north, and if you can send Slate to plow and dig, we¡¯ve got plenty of seeds from Kronfeldt to plant. A community garden inside the village walls would be ideal as well¡ªtomatoes, garlic, herbs, that sort of thing."


    I nodded. Having James, Orion, and Sophie back made everything feel more manageable.


    Then Orion hesitated before speaking, his voice unusually soft. "This might sound really dumb, but¡­ there are pink blossom trees across the river to the west. Your golem can dig, right? Could you uproot some and bring them here?"


    I blinked. "Why?"


    "They¡¯re beautiful," he said, almost shyly. "We could plant them along the main street for shade. Samar could graft new ones, too. It¡¯d make this place¡­ look special."


    Anika clapped her hands, smiling. "That¡¯s a wonderful idea."


    It wasn¡¯t practical. It wouldn¡¯t feed us or shelter anyone, but it could lift spirits and make the village feel like more than just a cluster of wooden huts. In my mind, I always envisioned Thornhill as a picturesque Swiss village or maybe a blend of a Japanese and Mediterranean coastal city. Survival had to come first, obviously, but I wanted to build a place worth surviving for.


    "I¡¯ll do it," I promised. "As soon as I can."


    Before ending the meeting, I gave one last directive. "James, I want you to spend an hour a day teaching the Emancipated English. They need to communicate their needs and integrate with the other villagers. I also want you to start teaching me and any interested Earthlings Lokan. If we¡¯re going to thrive in this world, we need to understand its language. In time, I¡¯ll reorganize housing so the Emancipated can live alongside the Earth villagers. We must stay united."


    James grinned. "As you wish, my beautiful and wise queen."


    I rolled my eyes, but before I could reply, Orion spoke up. "Jim, tell them to stop calling me or anyone else, Erandor."


    "What¡¯s Erandor?" I wondered, confused. I¡¯d heard the former slaves murmur the word before, but I hadn¡¯t paid much attention.


    "It¡¯s their religion, Orion," James explained with a frown. "Can¡¯t we let them have that bit of joy?"


    ¡°No. If they need to pray, let them do it in private,¡± Orion said. He sounded upset. His expression betrayed his frustration.


    ¡°Rye, I don¡¯t get it,¡± Anika said, frowning. ¡°You didn¡¯t show this much opposition to the Christian Church being built in town. Why the double standard? Why the intolerance?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about intolerance,¡± Orion replied. ¡°In this world, no one knows what a Christian, Muslim, or Hindu is¡­ at least I don¡¯t think so. But if people openly worship this¡­ Erandor, it¡¯ll stir up political trouble¡ªserious trouble. Think crusade-level chaos.¡±


    James let out a heavy sigh, nodding slowly. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll talk to them about keeping their worship private.¡±


    I hesitated, unsure if I should step in. When Orion got fired up, convincing him otherwise was nearly impossible. I didn¡¯t know enough about this world¡¯s politics to argue. James and Orion had far more insight than I did, but denying people the freedom to practice their faith openly felt wrong.


    You have to do better, Bianca. I need James to explain the political landscape to me before I¡¯m out of my depths like this again.


    I waved them off. They all had plenty to do, and so did I. Just as I thought my meetings were over, I spotted Cameron, the Ranger, waiting nearby.


    Cameron was an enigma, and I¡¯d been meaning to have a long conversation with him¡ªabout how he came from Earth like us and his whole story¡ªbut I¡¯d been so freaking busy.


    ¡°Can I talk to you¡ªand him?¡± Cameron asked, pointing toward Orion, who was deep in conversation with Sophie.


    Sophie was batting her lashes and whisking her fingers over Orion¡¯s arm, her gaze playful. Orion, however, was shaking his head, likely focused on the negotiation for the price of the beautiful white horse he¡¯d captured.


    ¡°You mean Rye? Why?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s about the village I came from. I need the Magebane¡¯s help.¡±

 Chapter 83

    Chapter 83


    Cameron


    June 1, 611 Imperial Era


    Population of Sanctuary - 71


    When Bianca explained the situation to Orion, the Magebane, he eyed me suspiciously and shook his head. It took some time for Bianca to plead with Orion to come over and talk to me, and he limped over dramatically as if to provoke a guilty response.


    "You''re the Archer," Orion said, sizing me up as he sat. "How do you know English again?"


    "I was born in San Diego," I replied.


    Bianca had heard this before, as had James. Both were stunned when I explained the situation, but Orion merely mulled it over, his mouth set in a line.


    The raid had left the village scrambling to recover. Post-cleanup and the organization of shelters took priority, leaving even something as shocking as another traveler from Modern-Day Earth on the back burner.


    It gave me time to assess Thornhill, how the village ran, and the leadership structure. From the outside, it appeared as though Bianca was the leader with a powerful builder class, while Orion was Thornhill''s sword. It didn¡¯t make much sense to me as Bianca, as a Holder, was probably low on the totem pole in terms of power and she wasn¡¯t democratically elected either, like Captain Fairhope. But my brief time here revealed that they operated a system where Bianca would play the good cop to Orion¡¯s bad cop and they were a mouthpiece for the six council members, filling in with their various specialties¡ªeconomy, science, and defense.


    When Orion revealed his class, I knew he was hiding something. He couldn''t be a simple Cook. I met Cooks. Their legendary skills included things like Portable Kitchens and Spice Pantries, where they could summon salt shakers and heated pans, not the ability to kill Eldrins and take on armies.


    "How long ago did you... spawn here?" Bianca asked.


    "A year ago, around the same time as you," I said. "Flight CL730, from LA to Seattle."


    "Wait... you were the ones who disappeared over the Pacific! It was all over the news. They''re still searching for the wreckage... Oh my god, this means that..." Bianca gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh, no... my family will think I''m..."


    "What region did you spawn in?" Orion asked, scratching his chin, unphased by such a revelation.


    "I don''t know. Close to Auriel''s border, I think. We never had a map. That''s one reason I left the village to learn more about this world."


    "So, what happened?" Bianca asked.


    A cup of their special tea sat before me, and I took a sip before beginning.


    "Captain Fairhope was our village''s Founder. He and his copilot were the first arrivals and built a signal fire. By the time I arrived, ten people were already there, starving. I got my class quickly and helped hunt for food. Even then, as more people arrived, things became a nightmare."


    I swallowed, licking my lips as I tried to dig up my painful memories. "The signal fire worked, and a traveling Halfrin fisherman came. He could only take one person on his small boat, so Captain Fairhope left on that boat to get help, and we haven''t seen him since. Things got worse after that. Power struggles, food shortages, and no shelter."


    Then I reached the part I regretted most.


    "We needed help, so I wanted to find the fishing village Captain Fairhope disappeared to. I knew we wouldn''t survive another month without help, so I left." I rubbed my hands together, shaking my head.


    "On the road, I was taken in by a Halfrin man and his wife on their farm. They seemed kind and offered me a place to stay, but when I woke up¡­ I found myself tied up." I gritted my teeth, remembering the pain. "They dragged me to town. I couldn''t speak their language, so I couldn''t explain anything. Next thing I knew, he sold me to slavers, and I was on a ship headed towards a fort on Auriel''s border. That''s where¡ª"


    I closed my eyes, fighting back shame and guilt.


    Why didn''t I listen to you, Ashe? I should have stayed.


    "That''s where Drudus, one of the Eldrin Masters, collared me... He gave me to Varon, another Eldrin, and we... crossed south to the Azure Duchys to raid villages together. I helped them..."


    I gulped.


    "Find other free Chattel," I said.


    There wasn''t much they could say, but they tried to hide their disgust. A human enslaving other humans. I was truly damned.


    "Cameron, it wasn''t your fault. You were under control by those collars, right?" Bianca asked.


    I nodded. "That''s why I got to go back to my village. I got to warn them and bring them here. They won''t stand a chance against the Eldrins."


    "You''ve been here for a year. Surely you''ve developed farther than us?" Orion asked.


    "When I left Fairhope, we were only there for two months. You guys have a dungeon and these walls. You have so many powerful Holders, including the Magebane. We spent most of the time arguing. People didn¡¯t want to embrace the system and didn¡¯t want to believe we were transported to a new world. The older folks didn''t want to do anything but seek help. We just... we had so many children and old folks¡ªAshe tried her best to rally us, but we kept fighting over who should lead and arguing over food. We mostly lived in mud huts and caves eating whatever we could forage," I said, feeling ashamed.


    "It wasn''t all smooth sailing for us too," Bianca said with an understanding smile. It dawned on me then why she was the leader and not Orion.


    We had it all wrong. We couldn''t rule through strength. We had to rely on each other and our classes. I ran away trying to get help, but I was wrong, Ashe.


    "You weren''t wrong to try to leave and find help," Orion sighed. "You were just unlucky. We might have landed in the best situation. We''re far away from Auriel, and Seraphina may not care about humans, but she wouldn''t go out of her way to enslave us."


    "Please. Let me borrow a mount so I can go find my village. If I bring them here, they won''t get enslaved like I did. We can double our population and Holders. If all the humans in this world band together, we can defeat the Eldrins!" I pleaded.


    Orion shook his head. "No. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You wouldn''t know where to look. We''ll let Sophie and James figure out where your village is after they build up an intelligence network in Kronfeldt, and then we''ll find a way to contact your village.¡±


    "But... it''ll be too late by then! They''ll all be enslaved, don''t you understand?" I said.


    "I do understand. What happened the last time you had this idea to venture out willy-nilly by yourself trying to save the world, huh? Don''t you learn from your mistakes?" Orion eyed me coldly.


    "That''s why I want you to come with me, Orion. You''re the Magebane. Together, we can find my home and we can free all the Chattel. Not just the ones in my village but in this entire world." I couldn''t believe it. Why was the hope of this world on this selfish man?


    "Do you know how stupid that sounds? Even if I were this Magebane, if I went around freeing slaves belonging to the nobles of this Kingdom, the nobles would complain to the Queen about their lost property, and we''d have two Empires after us," Orion said. "We''re not ready yet."


    "You have to do it. You''re the Magebane. It''s your destiny!" I said.


    "I am not the Magebane," he said, drawing out a card and showing me it again, his class card: Cook. "How many times do I have to tell you and the other Emancipated that? The Magebane doesn''t exist. I used a one-time EMP artifact to disable magic."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "I saw what I saw, Orion. You killed Drudus, and you killed Hadrelian. You carried Hadrelian¡¯s sword back to the village. I saw you take on nearly an army of five hundred and walk away from it," I said. "It is your job to save this world. You''re humankind¡¯s Messiah!"


    Orion then started laughing, holding his side. "You sound like a child. All I did was give them COVID and throw a couple of Molotovs at their supplies. I had no other choice. What you want me to do now is completely different. This is a wild goose hunt for a lost village that could be anywhere in the world and is a pointless risk. It''s a literal needle in a haystack through enemy territory."


    ¡°You¡¯re a coward,¡± I snapped, slamming my fist on the table where the young bastard sat arrogantly. ¡°It¡¯s your destiny and you are running away from it.¡±


    ¡°Cameron, you¡¯re not going anywhere. I¡¯m not letting you get captured again like an idiot and reveal our location to the Eldrins. And you certainly aren¡¯t getting any of our mounts.¡± Orion palmed his dagger¡¯s pommel.


    ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa... let¡¯s cool things down,¡± Bianca tried to break us apart. ¡°Cameron, I won¡¯t stop you if you want to go search for your village, but Orion is right. You¡¯ll just be wandering in the wild and risking yourself. Help us build Thornhill up and meanwhile, James and Sophie will work hard to find Fairhope. Give them any information you remember and they will find out what they can. I promise.¡±


    ¡°How?!¡± I snapped, immediately regretting taking my anger out on poor Bianca, but it was Orion who scowled in her stead.


    ¡°Let¡¯s make one thing clear. I don¡¯t trust you one bit,¡± Orion¡¯s jaw was set so tight it looked like he was chewing glass. ¡°For all we know, you could be an Eldrin skinchanger or Stockholm-Syndrome race traitor trying to lure me out to get captured. I still remember how eager you were when you shot that arrow at my leg.¡±


    ¡°You know the collars force me to do that! And skinchanger? Don¡¯t be silly. You are the Magebane. You can simply cancel any skin-changing magic I use.¡±


    ¡°Call me the Magebane one more time and I¡¯m going to break your fucking jaw,¡± Orion snarled.


    ¡°Rye, please. I trust Cameron. Me and James vetted him. He has to be from our world. He could recite every single state and even their capital,¡± Bianca pleaded in exasperation, her hands trying to keep Orion from leaving the table.


    ¡°A spy can easily pick up facts like that from the other villagers in the time he¡¯s here,¡± Orion said. ¡°Try saying something only someone from our world would know. An opinion.¡±


    ¡°California has better pizza than New York,¡± I replied.


    Orion immediately unsheathed his dagger before Bianca grabbed his arm. ¡°He¡¯s obviously joking.¡±


    ¡°I hate the Eldrins more than you can know. I¡¯m not a spy,¡± I sighed. ¡°I am sorry about your leg. I was under compulsion, you know that! I had to follow my orders.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re not a spy, you¡¯ll be smart and stay here and help our village. Why are you so insistent on me leaving and helping you search for a lost village with no plan?¡± Orion narrowed his eyes. ¡°Wait for Sophie or James to at least point a trail to this mystery village you talk about. If it even exists.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like this one bit. The more time I wasted in this village, the more likely the Eldrins would find Fairhope.


    ¡°How?¡± I asked.


    ¡°They¡¯ll show themselves somehow. I¡¯m sure there will be modernized products or Earthisms that pop up somewhere in nearby cities, plenty of East India Companies and McDonald''s or Starbucks or whatever. Invention of Earth games like chess, baseball, and go. Where modern humans go, they always leave a trace.¡± Orion shrugged, scratching his neck.


    ¡°And if the Eldrins find them first?¡± I asked.


    The Magebane stood, pushed his chair back, and walked away to his waiting elk mount. ¡°Let¡¯s hope none of them know how to make gunpowder,¡± he said over his shoulder.


    Bianca rubbed her temples, exhaling a deep, frustrated breath that puffed against the strands of red hair dangling over her forehead, making them flutter briefly before settling back down.


    ¡°Rye¡­ he can be difficult sometimes, but he means well, Cameron. You¡¯ll see. He¡¯s a good person who only wants to protect Thornhill,¡± Bianca explained, but I shook my head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I just don¡¯t understand why the Void gave someone like him so much power.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s really just a Cook, Cameron. He¡¯s not lying about that. Tell you what¡ªlet¡¯s go talk to James. Try to remember everything you can, landmarks or anything about the city you were sold in. Any little details you can remember about the surroundings of your village can help us pinpoint it. He¡¯s with the other new arrivals right now. I¡¯m sure he and Sophie will do their best to find it.¡±


    After meeting James and listening to his hollow assurances that he¡¯d do everything in his power to find Fairhope, I meandered through Thornhill, my temporary prison.


    Orion was right, in a way. I needed to figure out where even to begin looking for Fairhope. I just felt so helpless. The more time I spent not rescuing them and bringing them to Sanctuary, the more time the Eldrins would have to discover them.


    Only a day had passed since the devastating events, yet life carried on. Villagers loaded bins of arrows, bolts, armor, and weapons scavenged from the battlefield onto wagons pulled by mules, hauling them back to the warehouse. Sophie Park¡ªyes, it was actually her, to my surprise¡ªrode out through the North Gate on a white stallion, a small wooden carry-on package strapped securely behind her saddle''s cantle. In the mess hall, freed slaves attended basic English lessons taught by a British instructor, who also served as a spy and diplomat¡ªand my only lead in finding Fairhope. Nearby, a blonde warrior carried the carcass of a freshly slain boar toward the kitchens.


    A humble building, simple in form, caught my eye¡ªa dwelling of wood and plank with a gabled roof that seemed to touch the heavens, crowned by a weathered wooden cross. I entered and, with trembling steps, sought refuge in a pew, low and forgotten at the back of the house. Bowing my head, I covered my face with my hands and leaned forward, lost and desolate. I didn¡¯t know where to turn or which path to take. The silence embraced me, and I searched for solace in its stillness, though guilt weighed heavily on my heart.


    Then, as if sent from above, a voice¡ªgentle yet firm¡ªinterrupted my sorrowful solitude.


    ¡°Ah, my son, I know that position all too well,¡± the voice said, stirring me from my inward lament.


    Before me stood a man whose hair burned red like the flames of the earth, his short beard a matching fiery hue. His black robes flowed to the floor like those of an ancient prophet, and around his neck rested a stark white collar, the unmistakable mark of his calling. The sight of him, his hair the same hue as the Eldrins¡¯, sent an uneasy shudder through my soul.


    The priest approached with quiet grace, his expression one of deep compassion. Taking a seat beside me, he offered a kind, understanding smile, his presence both steadying and disarming.


    ¡°You¡¯re one of the newcomers to the village, aren¡¯t you?¡± he asked, his voice rich with an Irish lilt. He pronounced each word slowly, and carefully, unaware that I spoke English fluently.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.


    ¡°Ah, you speak the King¡¯s English too. Marvelous,¡± he said with a broadening smile. ¡°Well now, that¡¯s a pleasant surprise, I must say.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m from your world, Father¡­¡± I began hesitantly, unsure of how much to reveal.


    ¡°Father Gallagher¡¯s the name,¡± he said with a chuckle, extending his hand. ¡°But you can call me Ronan, if you like. Pleased to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Cameron,¡± I murmured, my voice heavy with the weight of my emotions.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s troubling you, lad? Come to lay your sins at the altar?¡± His tone was gentle but probing, his knowing gaze inviting me to share.


    "I¡­ was never much of a religious guy," I admitted, my gaze fixed on the floor.


    "And now?" Father Gallagher raised an eyebrow, curiosity lacing his tone.


    "After all I¡¯ve seen, all I¡¯ve done¡­ I don¡¯t know, Father. I¡¯m just¡­ lost. I think I¡¯m¡­ I think I¡¯m damned."


    "Ah, if I had a penny for every lad who thought he was damned," he said with a soft laugh. His eyes, however, held steady on mine, serious beneath the humor. "If you need to talk, I¡¯m all ears. I¡¯ve seen many a man come through these doors, not knowing where to turn. You¡¯re not the first, and ya won¡¯t be the last."


    I couldn¡¯t hold it back any longer. The sobs came, choking and raw, my breath hitching as the weight of my guilt spilled out.


    "I abandoned my people when they needed me most. I helped evil men," I managed, my voice cracking. "I helped them enslave other humans. I helped them kill men who were only trying to protect their homes, Father. I¡¯ve got the blood of the innocent on my hands."


    Father Gallagher was quiet for a moment, his expression solemn as he placed a firm but gentle hand on my shoulder.


    "Ah, I understand, lad," he said softly. "But from what I know, those who wear the slave collars don¡¯t act of their own will. There can be no sin where there is no free will." His words were kind, but they felt hollow, unable to reach the depth of my despair.


    "It doesn¡¯t matter," I said, shaking my head. "It was my hands, Father. My hands drew the bowstring. My hands that¡­ won¡¯t wash clean."


    The silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding, until Father Gallagher broke it, his voice steady but filled with a profound calm.


    "Do you know the story of Moses, lad?" he asked.


    "Yeah," I sniffled. "He¡¯s¡­ the Ten Commandments guy, right?"


    "Ah, there¡¯s more to it than that," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Moses was born into slavery but raised in the Pharaoh¡¯s house¡ªthe very family who oppressed his people. He witnessed their suffering, and when he acted out of anger, he was forced to flee, living in exile for forty years. Like you lad, his story didn¡¯t end there. He found his purpose and returned to lead his people out of bondage and into the Promised Land."


    Father Gallagher let the story linger, giving me time to absorb it. After a moment, he rose and left, returning with a cup of tea. He pressed it into my trembling hands, the warmth seeping into my fingers.


    "God hasn¡¯t given up on you yet, Cameron," he breathed. "He brought you here to Thornhill for a reason, my son. If you are seeking redemption, then there¡¯s still a chance for you. You¡¯re young. You can still lead your people to freedom."


    He patted me on the back, his smile filled with quiet encouragement as the tea¡¯s warmth spread through me, soothing my frayed nerves.


    "Lead your people to the Promised Land, Cameron."

 Chapter 84

    Chapter 84


    Astrid


    Day 74 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 71


    Life goes on, with or without me. The building crew had expanded to include several former slaves, who contributed their labor to our growing community. Among them were Beastkin mercenaries, eyed warily because they resembled the raiders who had attacked us.


    They were constructing a new brick tenement similar to the old one, symmetrical in its placement across the main road. Once completed, the building would house up to 60 people. Bianca had reorganized the living arrangements, mixing the newcomers with the established villagers to help them integrate.


    Everywhere I went, people passed by, offering me worried or sympathetic looks I couldn¡¯t bring myself to acknowledge. No one dared shame me for being a slacker, even though I spent my days drifting in and out of my room, getting up only to eat occasionally.


    My aimless wandering had led me to the river.


    Staring at my reflection in the still water, I barely recognized myself. My shoulder-length hair, once neat, was now wild and unkempt, tied into messy side ponytails. Exhaustion hollowed my face. My nose was too prominent on my face, and the freckles I used to hide with makeup now made me look like a leopard. The only feature I ever liked¡ªmy beautiful hazel eyes, a gift from both my parents¡ªwas now a shadow of what it once was. A black leather eye patch covered the ruin of my right eye, a grotesque crater carved by the Eldrins into a cross-shaped scar.


    As if to torment myself further, I removed the eye patch to stare at the disfigurement beneath. I winced at the sight of what I¡¯d become, a stark reminder of what was taken from me.


    I pulled out my Familiar: Husbandry Dog card. It lit up, shimmering as though eager for me to tap it and summon Aja again. But I hesitated. Why bother? She would only die again. I couldn¡¯t protect her, and forcing her to return felt like a cruel, endless cycle. Life wasn¡¯t so cheap that I could summon her repeatedly, only to see her suffer.


    The cooldown for Aja¡¯s re-summoning had doubled: what was once 12 hours was now 24. Even when the timer cleared, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to summon her. I couldn¡¯t face the guilt or the sight of her broken body, her pain mirrored in her eyes. How could I apologize again for letting her die?


    It wasn¡¯t just her¡ªI felt the same way about everyone in the village. I wanted to hide, to avoid their pitying glances, empty gestures of sympathy, and meaningless words. I didn¡¯t need it. I didn¡¯t want it. I hated it. If only I could turn back time and undo everything. If only I could go home. Maybe this was all a dream, I thought, and the only way to wake up was to¡­


    I didn¡¯t belong here. I wasn¡¯t cut out for this world. Maybe leaving was the only way.


    Bianca had assigned two new workers¡ªyoung women freed from slavery¡ªto help with the animals. Bianca told me not to rush back to work. The women, once goat farmers, seemed docile and worn down by years of captivity. They looked as broken as I felt. I lingered by the animal pens, watching Ruth and the two new workers. They busied themselves sweeping, feeding the pigs, and brushing the elk. Life moved on, indifferent to my misery.


    They didn¡¯t need me. They were doing fine on their own.


    ¡°Astrid, honey!¡± Ruth called out, waving. ¡°You¡¯re back. Oh, we¡¯ve missed you so much.¡±


    She leaned her broom against the coop wall and hurried over to hug me. The two new workers, flaxen-haired and timid, bowed slightly in greeting. In thickly accented English, they attempted, ¡°Good morning.¡±


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re managing just fine without me,¡± I muttered, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t say that, Astrid. Your animals miss you so much. They need you, dear. Peaches has been crying all day for you.¡±


    ¡°Why does it matter?¡± I snapped. ¡°I¡¯m just raising them to be slaughtered for food anyway. It¡¯s pointless.¡±


    Ruth¡¯s face softened, though a flicker of hurt crossed her eyes. ¡°Honey¡­ the village needs them to survive. And we need you too.¡± She reached out, gently brushing her hand along my cheek beneath the missing eye. I flinched away from her touch.


    She gave me a sad smile, masking her pain. ¡°I see you need more time, and that¡¯s okay. We¡¯ll be strong for you, dear. Don¡¯t worry.¡±


    With one last hug, she added, ¡°If you need to sulk, go ahead and sulk, Astrid. No one will force you to come back. When you¡¯re ready, we¡¯ll all be here for you.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t stand it. The pity. The gentle understanding. I had to get out of there.


    My self-loathing and despair had led me to the ruin of my silkworm hut. Only ashes remained. I wandered to a nearby tree stump overlooking the beach and stared at the ocean for what felt like an hour, letting dark thoughts consume me. The waves pulled at my mind like quicksand, dragging me down.


    A voice suddenly broke the silence behind me, startling me¡ªI hadn¡¯t even noticed anyone approaching. ¡°Where¡¯s your dog?¡±


    The sound grated on my ears. If there was one person I didn¡¯t want to see right now, it was him.


    I turned slightly to see Orion picking through the ashes of the hut, sifting through the charred remains of timber and debris. His movements were casual, almost careless. I ignored him and turned back to the waves.


    If I just pretend he¡¯s not here, maybe he¡¯ll leave.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°We¡¯re making a dungeon run. Level four. You¡¯re being promoted to the Varsity Squad, kiddo. Come with us,¡± he said, his voice light.


    ¡°I¡¯m done. I don¡¯t want to do it,¡± I mumbled, barely audible.


    ¡°It¡¯s an order.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not my boss.¡±


    ¡°I can drag you there if I have to,¡± he replied, a teasing edge to his voice.


    That did it. I turned to face him, glaring. "What the hell do you want? Huh? I¡¯m not some NPC you can bother every time you want eggs!"


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget honey. You¡¯re two weeks behind on that payment, by the way.¡± He smiled, his gaze flicking over me as if amused by my outburst.


    I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to take the bait. Turning away again, I focused on the ocean and let the silence settle back between us.


    ¡°Nice eyepatch,¡± he said after a pause. ¡°You know, if you tame a parrot with your Animal Keeper skill, you¡¯d really nail the whole pirate vibe you¡¯ve got going.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a fricking asshole!¡± I snapped, springing to my feet with my hands itching for my whip. He didn¡¯t flinch, just shrugged, as if expecting my reaction.


    He stood there, completely unfazed, waiting for me to calm down. As if he had all the time in the world.


    ¡°Listen. The village needs you to snap out of this whole emo phase you¡¯re stuck in. You can¡¯t let your skills go to waste. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re too moody to shovel hog shit, but we need your fighting ability against the Eldrins.¡± His amusement vanished, replaced with a stern glare.


    I can''t believe the nerve of this guy.


    ¡°I tried, Orion! Look what happened to me! I¡¯m done.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re done when the Eldrins are done,¡± he shot back. ¡°They won¡¯t stop, Astrid. Not until they¡¯ve enslaved every last one of us. We need every single Holder we have to fight them.¡±


    ¡°How are we supposed to stop them, Orion?¡± I snapped. ¡°They¡¯re a fricking empire! What¡¯s like even the point of even trying to resist?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted, his voice cold but steady. ¡°But if you don¡¯t want Ruth, Ethan, and Bianca dragged off in chains to serve as pets for some foreign noble, then all of us have to keep moving forward. We can¡¯t sit around waiting for you to sort out your little crisis. I¡¯ve watched better people than you die defending this village without your abilities, Astrid. People like us don¡¯t have a choice. We don¡¯t have a choice. We have to keep moving forward.¡±


    ¡°Oh, spare me the responsibility lecture, Orion. Where were you, huh?¡± My voice was rising now, every word laced with venom. ¡°Why are you always missing or sick whenever crap goes down? Like, you know, everyone thinks you¡¯re a coward who runs away when we need you! Where were you when I lost my eye? Maybe I wouldn¡¯t have had to fight alone if you''d been here!¡±


    ¡°I was doing my job, same as you.¡± He sighed, long and slow, like he was tired of this conversation.


    ¡°Your job?¡± I barked a bitter laugh. ¡°I raised Rudolph so you¡¯d use him to protect us, Orion! Why was I the one out there risking my life to save my animals? Why weren¡¯t you there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what happened,¡± he said, shaking his head. He didn¡¯t look sorry at all. ¡°But you should¡¯ve waited for the others. You should¡¯ve let the animals die rather than charge in recklessly by yourself. Buildings can be rebuilt. Animals can be replaced. But we can¡¯t replace someone like you, Astrid. You were lucky to lose only an eye.¡±


    That was just like him. Fricking psychopath.


    ¡°Why is my life so important, huh?¡± I demanded. ¡°Why is my life worth more than my animals? What¡¯s the point of fighting if everything I care about just dies, anyway?¡±


    ¡°When I came back to the village, I counted the bodies you left behind, Astrid. Eight of them. You have the potential to be the strongest one of us, and with that comes a responsibility¡ªto protect the people who don¡¯t have the kind of power you do,¡± Orion said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to!¡± I shouted. ¡°I just want to raise animals and live a simple life, Orion!¡±


    ¡°We all want that,¡± he replied. ¡°You don¡¯t think I¡¯d rather just cook and live in peace? None of us asked for this, but we don¡¯t get to choose.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± I said, my voice defiant. ¡°And I choose to stop playing this stupid game. I want to go home.¡±


    Orion let out a deep sigh and walked toward me. My fists tightened on my whip, bracing for him to drag me to the dungeon. Instead, he reached out, gently taking my wrists in his hands and guiding them toward his chest. Then he placed a small pile of ashes in my palms.


    "If you¡¯re angry," he said, his voice low, "take it out on the people who did this to you. Not on Ethan and Ruth. Not on the ones who care about you. This is just one battle in a long war, Astrid. The Eldrin will return, and when they do, you¡¯ll have your chance. If you want an eye, there¡¯s an entire empire of theirs you can take it from.¡±


    Up close, I could see how the last month had worn him down. His scars and bruises told the story of being in several battles, making him look ten years older than he had before.


    ¡°You still have your birds, your elk, your pigs. You still have your friends and your home. And you still have two working hands and legs.¡± His gaze softened, though his voice remained firm. ¡°You have to keep moving forward.¡±


    Did he really think a speech was going to fix this? That I¡¯d just salute and march off to play the good little soldier? Sir, yes, sir! Back to work, sir! It doesn¡¯t work that way, asshole!


    I fought the urge to snap back at him¡ªor worse, throttle him¡ªand watched as he turned and walked back toward Rudolph. The elk waited patiently for him, its massive antlers gleaming in the sunlight. As Orion mounted, Rudolph dipped his head toward me in acknowledgment before the two disappeared over the hill.


    I sighed and leaned against the rough bark of the tree, the cool shade offering little comfort. My gaze drifted back to the ocean, its endless waves whispering their monotonous lullaby. Yet my thoughts lingered on Orion, replaying his words in my mind.


    Opening my hand, I watched as the ashes he¡¯d given me scattered into the breeze, swirling away like the shadows of my silkworm hut. When the last of them was gone, I noticed something left behind in my palm: three delicate silk cocoons, their soft, opalescent sheen catching the light.


    One of them twitched, shifting in tiny, rhythmic jerks like a restless heartbeat. A small tear appeared in the silk, and I watched, transfixed, as a pale wing slowly emerged. Piece by piece, a ribbon moth fought its way free, unfurling its powdery wings with tentative grace.


    It wasn¡¯t like the silk moths I¡¯d known before, the ones from Earth. This one¡¯s wings were slate gray, crisscrossed with jagged black ribbons that formed no discernible pattern. It sat there for a moment, still and fragile, as though testing this unfamiliar world for the first time. Then its wings spread wide, and its tiny black eyes fixed on me, unblinking.


    I understood the message. The metaphor was obvious, practically screaming at me. But staring at the creature, I couldn¡¯t ignore the truth tugging at the edges of my mind.


    What emerged from that cocoon was undeniably ugly.

 Chapter 85

    Chapter 85


    Sophie


    Day 74 of First Landing


    Kronfeldt


    Beneath the White Fox Exchange and Loan, I sat behind a newly installed mahogany desk. The wood polish gleamed, and beside me sat a stack of parchment, a bright red Scarlet Fowl quill, and an ink bottle. The past few days had been hectic¡ªrecovering from the, all things considered, ineffective attack on my home while catching up on my business interests¡ªor rather, Thornhill¡¯s.


    The road south to the Trade Depot near the waterfall, a half day¡¯s ride from the northern gates of Thornhill, was half-finished at this point. Even so, it had significantly reduced travel time, allowing me to journey on my new white steed in about two days, weather permitting.


    Upon returning, besides stabling my horse, I first deposited the massive pile of money Orion had given me, along with Thornhill¡¯s tax cut. He had looted the Eldrin coffers during a raid and handed me roughly one-third of the spoils. The rest went to the mercenaries as incentives for their hard work on construction projects. Naturally, he and Thornhill trusted the White Fox Exchange and Loan to manage the gold at a reasonable return.


    As the month neared its end, I prepared to pay off the bonds I had sold to the women I¡¯d networked with. They would undoubtedly request renewed bonds, but this was meant to be a one-time arrangement¡ªstartup capital for the company.


    My biggest concern now was increasing the supply of Firecracker Berry tea. With most resources focused on Thornhill¡¯s defenses, tea and teaware production had fallen short of expectations. I had spoken with Samar and Anika about expanding their berry orchards, but they faced more pressing concerns, like medicine and food. We reached a compromise: workers from Kronfeldt would help build new farms and orchards halfway between Thornhill and Kronfeldt. These would all be controlled by the East India Company.


    In exchange, Samar and Anika requested supplies: mattresses, pillows, and clothing, particularly for Samar¡¯s younger daughter. These were minor expenses, and though they could have asked for more, Bianca and I were already wary of the growing wealth disparity between those who could produce valuable goods and those who could not.


    To address this disparity, shares in the East India Trading Company and the White Fox Exchange and Loan were distributed among the villagers. This was intended to balance wealth across the community. Over time, dividends would be paid out, and a catalog of foreign goods available for purchase from the Company, in a commissary fashion, would be provided to the villagers. Of course, I earned a modest one-percent commission for managing the enterprise¡ªa small incentive, but enough to motivate me to secure the best deals possible.


    The village''s most pressing needs were toiletries, socks, shoes, and undergarments. Beyond that, the council was already preparing for winter, so I was tasked with securing either coal or peat to heat Thornhill. Meanwhile, the science wing had two priorities: tungsten and rubber, the latter specifically for making bicycles.


    Right now, to gather the money needed to repay the bonds, I was collecting on a debt that had come due. It wouldn¡¯t provide much money, but it offered something just as valuable: information. I nodded to the boar guard who stood watch over the stairway to the basement of the White Fox Exchange and Loan. He bowed and returned upstairs to ensure no one interrupted me during my work.


    Having reached Level 3 of Espionage, I had unlocked a new skill: Agent.


    Agent - C


    Give an Agent card to a willing person. This person will allow you to listen in and view through their eyes and ears, as well as hear your instructions. Only one agent is allowed currently.


    The card was the perfect foundation for my spy network. We needed more information¡ªspecifically on threats, Super¡¯s location, and the mysterious village of Fairhope, another settlement of Voidborn Earthlings. The next phase of my plan was to establish an information network to keep Thornhill¡ªand, more importantly, myself¡ªsecure.


    Throwing out the card labeled "Agent," I activated the skill. A vision appeared in my left eye and ear as if in split-screen or picture-in-picture mode. I could see and hear everything from my Agent¡¯s perspective


    ¡°Kaeven,¡± the elder began, his voice heavy with weariness. His graying black hair clung to his scalp, slick with grease, and his piercing yellow eyes burned with the weight of endless disappointment. ¡°Have you been at the taverns and gaming tables again? Tell me¡ªwhat fortune have you squandered this time?¡±


    ¡°Fear not, Father,¡± Kaeven replied with a laugh, light and careless. ¡°Luck has turned in my favor. I am unshackled of all debts now, truly.¡±


    ¡°And by what miracle, pray, did you achieve that?¡± The elder¡¯s tone sharpened. ¡°What part of your inheritance did you sell this time? Or have you found some other family treasure to barter away? Last time, your debts forced us to sell the town¡¯s mining rights to the nobles.¡±


    Kaeven scowled. ¡°Nothing, Father. Truly, nothing. The Dealer favored me this week in Badar.¡±


    ¡°Badar? You know those games odds are stacked to the house,¡± the Mayor¡¯s lip curled in disbelief. ¡°Do you think me a fool? Oh, if your grandmother could tear herself away from her copperleaf pipe and cast her eyes upon her spoiled and inept descendants¡­¡± He let out a bitter laugh. ¡°She¡¯d immolate these lands and rebuild from ash. Oh, how the House of the Phoenix has fallen.¡±


    With trembling hands, the mayor poured himself a glass of wine. He stared into the dark liquid as though seeking solace and looked near to weeping.


    ¡°Father, please. I mean it¡ªmy debts are paid in full,¡± Kaeven insisted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.


    Mayor Kaelan regarded his son with a skeptical eye, then sighed heavily. ¡°One day, Kaeven, the mantle of Mayor will fall to you, whether you want it or not. Kronfeldt is no ordinary town. The iron from our mines forges the duchy¡¯s weapons, and now gold has been discovered. A place of such importance demands a ruler of strength and temperance¡ªnot a man who squanders his time at the gaming tables and in the Silk Lotus.¡±


    ¡°Father, you¡¯ll live to a hundred,¡± Kaeven replied with a dismissive chuckle. ¡°It¡¯ll be fifty years before I need to think about ruling. Let me enjoy my youth while I can.¡±


    The Mayor¡¯s expression darkened, his voice dropping low. ¡°Circumstances may change sooner than you think.¡±


    Kaeven straightened, the shift in tone unsettling him. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    The mayor leaned closer, his words laden with gravity. ¡°Listen well, and speak of this to no one. Duke Aulric lies near death¡ªhe may have but months to live. When he passes, my life could be forfeit.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Kaeven blinked, his father¡¯s once-imposing image seeming to waver. ¡°Why would anyone threaten your life?¡±


    ¡°I am Lady Evilith¡¯s uncle,¡± the Mayor explained, his voice tinged with frustration. ¡°And she is your cousin. As her strongest ally, I stand as an obstacle for the ducal seat. But Count Oleric or Wiscal may see me removed to strengthen their claims.¡±


    ¡°That makes no sense,¡± Kaeven said, shaking his head. ¡°Evilith is the rightful heir. The line of succession is clear. Why would there be a contest?¡±


    Mayor Kaelan growled, setting his glass down with a clink. ¡°Had you spent less time in the company of drink and dice and more with matters of state, you might understand. The path of politics is rarely so simple, Kaeven. Were your mother still with us, she might have guided you to see the truth of it. She had a way of making you listen.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    For a moment, silence stretched between them as the mayor gazed into the distance, lost in thought. Then, almost as if to steady himself, he poured a measure of liquor and raised the cup to his lips, sipping slowly.


    ¡°On another matter, boy, have you seen to the task I set before you? What news do you bring me of the White Fox Exchange and Loans?¡±


    "Ask him why is he so interested."


    Kaeven shifted uneasily. ¡°Why is this matter of such importance, Father?¡±


    ¡°A civil war looms on the horizon, and they¡¯ve already purchased the rights to the iron mines and the smiths. This shouldn¡¯t be news to you, Kaeven¡ªDealer¡¯s balls!¡±


    "Hmm¡­ Now, Kaeven, recite what we rehearsed."


    ¡°I have made inquiries as you asked,¡± Kaeven replied. ¡°It appears that a great number of noble families within Kronfeldt hold shares and bonds in the company. The chairperson is known by the name White Fox, though little is truly known of them.¡±


    The mayor stroked his chin thoughtfully. ¡°And who, pray tell, is this White Fox? Their name has come to my ear more than once. I must have words with them.¡±


    ¡°My sources suggest that the White Fox is little more than a figurehead, Father,¡± Kaeven continued, ¡°A mere symbol for the shareholders who truly hold sway. I have seen more than one individual don the White Fox¡¯s mask¡ªit appears they employ several former members of the Banking Guild. The true power lies with the nobles who invest heavily in the White Fox.¡±


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Mayor Kaelan stroked his chin, nodding slowly. ¡°I did not expect such insight from you, Kaeven.¡±


    "Come now, Kaeven. Do the song and dance. You signed a Contract, remember? Do you remember the penalty for failing it?"


    For a moment, Kaeven was silent, his expression clouded with unspoken thoughts. At last, he spoke, his voice hesitant. ¡°If I may, Father, any interference or sanctions against the White Fox could provoke unrest among the nobility. The company is a vital asset to Kronfeldt, filling our coffers with their taxes. Just last week alone, they accounted for thirty percent of our tax revenue. I believe it prudent to remain neutral¡ªfor the good of the town.¡±


    The mayor¡¯s gaze narrowed as he considered Kaeven¡¯s words. After a long pause, he gave a slow nod. ¡°Sage counsel, lad. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. If the nobles are as entangled in this venture as you claim, then I must ensure they see that their fortunes lie with Evilith in the coming conflict. Should war fall upon us, they will need to align themselves wisely.¡±


    With a weary sigh, the Mayor sank into his chair, cradling his drink. He stared into the dark liquid as if seeking answers, the weight of his burdens evident on his face.


    "Good work, Kaeven. Now show Daddy what a smart boy you are."


    ¡°There is more I wish to present to you, Father,¡± Kaeven said.


    ¡°Oh?¡± The mayor raised an eyebrow, setting his cup aside as he stood. ¡°You¡¯ve been rather industrious, it seems. Let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    Kaeven handed over a parchment. ¡°This,¡± he explained, ¡°is a list of the town¡¯s guards.¡±


    The Mayor unrolled the document, his eyes scanning the rows of names. ¡°And these columns mean¡­?¡±


    ¡°I conducted an investigation,¡± Kaeven replied, stepping closer to point out the divisions. ¡°The names in the first row are guards you can trust implicitly. The ones in the second row are loyal but undisciplined¡ªthey require firm oversight to perform adequately. The names in the final row, however¡­¡± Kaeven¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°They are utterly corrupt. They must be dismissed, and some may need to face imprisonment.¡±


    ¡°How did you carry out such an investigation?¡±


    ¡°My agents tested each man with bribes,¡± Kaeven began. ¡°The ones who took the smallest amount are clean¡ªthey accepted only out of necessity, to avoid suspicion. Those who accepted a modest sum require discipline to set an example. I suggest a public lashing. But the last group¡­ they not only took the maximum offered but were willing to bend any town law to do so.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± The Mayor rubbed his chin, his expression darkening. ¡°This hardly inspires confidence. If every one of my guards is willing to take a bribe, why should I trust even those who accepted only the minimum? Even a small crack can shatter the foundation.¡±


    ¡°The men operate under a code,¡± Kaeven explained carefully. ¡°Refusing outright marks you as a snitch. For many, taking a bribe was their only way to protect themselves. I believe they had no choice, Father.¡±


    Mayor Kaelan studied his son for a long moment, then nodded slowly. ¡°I¡¯m surprised, Kaeven. You¡¯ve done well¡ªbetter than I expected. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. We may make a statesman out of you, after all.¡±


    For the first time, Kaeven saw a flicker of pride in his father¡¯s eyes. And so, he felt the weight of shame settle in his own heart.


    ¡°Awww¡­ isn¡¯t that sweet, Kaeven? Daddy is proud of you! I told you¡ªthis is mutually beneficial, right?¡±


    Kaeven clenched his jaw, ignoring the voice. ¡°I will take my leave, Father,¡± he said curtly, bowing slightly before turning on his heel. He exited his father¡¯s mansion, stepping out into the crisp evening air of Kronfeldt¡¯s upscale district. The polished cobblestones gleamed under the warm glow of lanterns as he made his way toward the Silk Lotus.


    As he approached, the familiar scent of incense and exotic spices wafted through the air, mingling with the faint hum of music and laughter.


    ¡°Well, well, look who it is,¡± came a rich, sultry voice. Trufflenose, draped in her usual extravagant silks, stood in the doorway with her arms wide open. Her grin widened as she saw him. ¡°If it isn¡¯t our favorite client.¡±


    Kaeven sighed, a weary smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. ¡°Madame. I wish to enjoy your flower gardens. Matters of state have left me quite famished.¡± He greeted, stepping into her embrace as the music and warmth of the Silk Lotus enveloped him.


    <hr>


    Not interested in seeing Kaeven''s depravities in the bordello, I pushed the Agent card back into my palms. I reflected on the information shared so far. The investment I¡¯d made in the little mayor¡¯s son was already bearing fruit, in ways both expected and surprising.


    Hours later, after finishing with the dull yet necessary paperwork, a soft knock came at the door. I didn¡¯t have time to call out before the door creaked open. In strolled my young runner, Nax. He was barely taller than the desk, a mop of tousled hair hidden beneath his woolen cap. His orange-furred ears twitched, and his long tail swayed behind him¡ªNax was a cat beastkin, his feline traits making him look adorable.


    "Milady Lois," Nax said with a bright smile. "The caravans are all loaded up, just as you ordered."


    I returned his smile, amused by his enthusiasm. "Excellent work, Nax." I plucked a Third from my purse and tossed it his way. He caught it with both hands, wide-eyed as if I¡¯d just handed him a king''s ransom. Along with it, I passed him two parchments, both sealed with red wax. "Another delivery."


    ¡°Where to milady?¡±


    ¡°You are to join your brother with the caravan to Lord Clark¡¯s village. Deliver this letter to Lord Clark, undisturbed.¡±


    Nax''s face lit up even brighter. "To Lord Clark''s village?" he asked, nearly bouncing on his heels.


    I chuckled softly. "Indeed. You¡¯ve always been curious, haven¡¯t you? Now you¡¯ll get to see it for yourself. But this isn¡¯t just a holiday, Nax. I¡¯m trusting you to get this to Lord Clark. Directly."


    He nodded eagerly. "I won¡¯t let you down, Missus Lois. Thank you for... well, for everything."


    "Your brother¡¯s still with the caravans, isn¡¯t he?" I asked as I rose from my chair.


    "Yes, Missus Lois," he said, puffing up with pride. "He¡¯s riding with them now. Can you believe it? Never been on a pony before!"


    "Good," I murmured, glancing out the hopper window, pretending I didn¡¯t already know every detail about his brother¡¯s newfound job. "Bronzeclaw and one of his Whitefang mercenaries will be with you, too. Make sure to give Bronzeclaw my regards, won¡¯t you?"


    Nax nodded so quickly that I feared his cap might tumble off. "It¡¯ll be done, I swear. And... and thank you again."


    He turned to leave. I watched the door close behind them with a slight smirk. Yes, the boy had his uses. But more than that, his loyalty was something I could nurture. Something I could mold.


    After a long day, I spent the night roaming the streets, grabbing a bite to eat, and watching a show. Before retiring to an inn, I wandered to the ruined pier and glanced across the lake. There, my newest project was unfolding. Massive tree trunks floated on the lake and felled in incredible numbers. The ancient forest behind the lake was being cleared in the march of progress. Beyond that, construction had begun on a mill that would grind the wood into sawdust, which would eventually be processed into cardboard and, more importantly, paper.


    There were more ways Thornhill could conquer this world beyond just weapons.

 Chapter 86

    Chapter 86


    Orion


    Day 76 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 71


    At the edge of our village, three riders approached, leading a caravan behind them. Scars from the battle still marked the fields they passed¡ªbroken bolts and arrows scattered where they hadn¡¯t been scavenged. A dirt path was forming along the riverbank leading to the northern gates.


    I rode on Rudolph to meet the visitors, hoping Sophie had delivered on one of my requests. Part of the price she paid for the horse I¡¯d gained from the Eldrins was supposed to be in that caravan. I wanted to dig through it before anyone else got the chance.


    To my surprise, the visitors turned out to be Nax and Fleetpaw, my Catkin kitchen helpers from Kronfeldt. They rode a small pony alongside Bronzeclaw and another White Fang mercenary, two of the mercenaries spared from construction work in Thornhill.


    ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t you two. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be making burgers?¡± I grinned.


    ¡°Lord Clark!¡± Nax shouted when he recognized my voice. Without my mask, he looked stunned. ¡°You¡¯re a Chattel?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Yeah. Orion''s my real name."


    I suppose since they are working for Sophie now, I wouldn''t have to worry about them keeping this place a secret.


    "How are you two?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re good. Lady Lois got us jobs with her company,¡± Nax replied quickly, answering for both of them. Fleetpaw nodded in acknowledgment, his calm demeanor suggesting he wasn¡¯t as surprised to see me unmasked.


    ¡°Have they been a handful, Captain Bronzeclaw?¡± I asked, turning to the White Fang captain.


    ¡°They¡¯re fine lads,¡± Bronzeclaw said, ¡°but a mercenary captain should be doing more than escorting trade caravans. Speaking of which, when do you plan on finishing with my men?¡±


    That was the other price of Sophie¡¯s horse. Ten White Fang mercenaries were helping me build a tavern and extra living space, with the other ten helping Bianca construct her new hostel. Over the past few days, Crag dug out a cellar and the rest of the mercenaries had just started laying the floorboards for the tavern¡¯s second floor.


    I called in favors with Marek, who designed and oversaw the plans for the tavern, and with Bianca. I also handed Hadrelian''s sword to Alex in exchange for his help lifting beams and wheelbarrows of bricks. Together, we all worked on the tavern over the past several days. Strangely, even some of the Emancipated came to help, thanking me for reasons I couldn¡¯t fully understand.


    ¡°Oh, just a few more days, Captain. Don¡¯t worry,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll escort you to the village. The villagers might be a bit¡­ unsettled about Beastkin visitors coming through.¡±


    The White Fang Legion mercenaries¡ªBeastkin men working on my tavern¡ªhad a rough time. They camped on the outskirts of town using tents belonging to the fallen Red Scythe and rode in each morning to begin their work, but every time they appeared, they frightened the villagers. People muttered cruel things, calling them ¡°animals¡± and ¡°beasts,¡± their words fueled with memories of the raiders who had stormed the village walls. Over time, the villagers grew used to them, but it was clear the Beastkin weren¡¯t welcome. Despite Bianca and me trying to make them feel at home, they kept camping outside.


    Before anyone in the village could see, I inspected the caravan¡¯s contents and dug out one of my prizes: a glass jar nestled inside a melting block of ice, water trickling to the back of the wagon where it nestled. I cracked it open and sniffed the white liquid inside¡ªstill fresh and creamy. Perfect. I tucked it into my satchel along with the other treasures Sophie had bought for me: some umber rock sugar and a vial of castoreum.


    ¡°Lord Orion, it¡¯s not nice to pilfer the village¡¯s supplies,¡± Nax said, hands on his hips as I stuffed the ingredients into my bag.


    ¡°Entry tax,¡± I replied with a smile.


    We entered the town and unloaded the supplies Sophie had sent: clothing, parchment, clothing, and more storage bags for grain. Special packages, marked for Anika and Samar, were rewarded for their work on the tea blends.


    The villagers were much friendlier to Nax and Fleetpaw than to the mercenaries, finding the younger cats adorable. I had to remind them not to pet the "kitties".


    Outside the tavern, work carried on as usual. Emancipated mercenaries laid bricks and sanded wood for chairs, while Slate set up wooden beams for the second floor¡ªwhere the rooms would go for me and Cass and two guest rooms. Crag, Bianca¡¯s quarry golem, was busy digging a drainpipe to connect the eventual outhouse to the sewage system.


    In the back a pair of Emancipated who were assigned to do farming with Samar was helping in their spare time, working on a garden with tomatoes and herbs. Again, I tried to get them to leave but they insisted, still believing that I was the Magebane.


    I guess if it keeps them from worshipping the real Magebane¡­ I¡¯ll try to make the best out of it.


    It felt downright devious that I¡¯d managed to get so many people to work on a project that was mostly for me and Cass. But like all selfish things, I only felt a tiny bit guilty due to Bianca''s influence. I pulled out the first Deed card Bianca had created and studied the area she¡¯d assigned me. It was a generous plot with room for gardens in the back and space for future expansion. The tavern itself sat in a prime spot, east of the village center, between the Second Tenement and the dungeon, and close to the well and northern moat that would supply it with water.


    Outside, a charcoal grill glowed softly, flames licking at the copper wok resting above. Pouring in the cream, I made a cr¨¨me anglaise, using ingredients from the Caravan along with Astridian eggs from the animal keepers. The custard, smooth and fragrant, was carefully poured into a pickle-sized glass jar, wrapped securely, and tucked into a bag.


    Have to be careful not to break this thing.


    After finishing that, my buff timers flashed a reminder¡ªthe dungeon run was starting.


    At the mess hall, I met up with the dungeon crew. Alex and Sasha rode Comet, Astrid was on Dancer since Olive was pregnant, and Bart and Cade were on Dasher. I, of course, rode Rudolph. We headed toward the dungeon, cutting our travel time significantly with the mounts.


    Aja¡ªnow the size of a Timberwolf¡ªran alongside Astrid. She had transformed alongside Astrid¡¯s new levels, becoming a fearsome beast. Like her partner, Aja was missing her right eye, with a scar running across it. Beneath the scar, a red, angry light glowed ominously. Her once easygoing demeanor had hardened into a permanent sneer, and she no longer allowed anyone to touch or pet her.


    I hadn¡¯t spoken much to Astrid after our confrontation. Many of the dungeon crew had given her space, welcoming her into the lineup. I figured I¡¯d done enough damage to her already, but at least I pointed her in the right direction. It would take some time before her scars truly healed.


    Slowly, she was coming out of her shell and was running out of coins, so she decided to finally come with us on a dungeon run after much prodding.


    I had considered inviting Cameron, despite my lingering wariness of him. In our last encounter, I¡¯d seen firsthand that he was a high-level archer and our party needed more ranged members. However, Cameron was preoccupied. He was busy helping the Emancipated acclimate to their new homes and, no doubt, working tirelessly to save enough coin for the eventual purchase of a mount.


    When we reached the dungeon, we hitched our elk to a resting spot inside the cave. We¡¯d set up a fenced-off area to keep them safe from predators. Astrid didn¡¯t treat the elk with the same affection she used to. Seeing that somehow made me feel a bit of regret. She dismounted and hitched Dancer with robotic movements, then took her place in our formation, hands resting on the pommel of her whip.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The six of us all activated the Waystone and were transported to floor four of the dungeon once we went past the iron doors.


    On floor four, we faced rocky canyons with harpies perched on cliffs above, waiting for us. The maze-like paths always led to a narrow entryway that opened into a clearing surrounded by cliffs on all sides, where the harpies waited. Bart, Alex, and I worked to clear the entryway, my Strike of Iron proving useful.


    Once the path was clear enough for the two of us to pass at a time, we moved forward as a group, not surprised when the first flock of harpies descended. Aja leaped over us, mauling a harpy whose talons were aimed at our group. Cade and Alex, our tanks, sprang forward and began fighting.


    Before the purple harpies could cast their tornado spells, they were hit with bolts, Acid Spit, and throwing knives. Astrid, teeth bared, charged far left, taking on several harpies by herself. Her whip spiraled and cracked, sending feathers flying like it was a pillow fight.


    ¡°Get back in formation, Astrid!¡± I yelled, but she shot me a glare.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how to deal with her. I probably shouldn¡¯t take anyone to the dungeon with that kind of death wish.


    Reluctantly, Astrid left a pile of dead harpies behind and returned to the formation, guarding the left flank.


    The harpy massacre was so quick that we didn¡¯t trigger the Cyclops boss. After checking our coins and ammunition, we decided to wander around and search for loot.


    The first chest we opened contained a bronze spiked collar, which we gave to Astrid. She placed it around her dog¡¯s neck, and the menacing familiar looked even more intimidating.


    ¡°Damn, Astrid! Remind me to stay out of your way,¡± Sasha said, grinning.


    ¡°Forget Astrid the Animal Keeper,¡± Alex said, nudging her. ¡°You¡¯re Astrid the Beast Master now.¡±


    ¡°You cool if I smith you a skull helmet?¡± Bart said, nudging Astrid with his elbow. ¡°Gotta have you two matching.¡±


    For a moment, Astrid''s frown disappeared and was replaced with a slight nudge on the corner of her lips.


    ¡°There it is!¡± Alex said, pointing. ¡°We almost had a smile! Blink twice if it was an accident.¡±


    Astrid shook her head, lips twitching upward again, barely.


    Cade leaned closer. ¡°We¡¯re your pack, Astrid. Whatever¡¯s weighing you down, we¡¯ve got your back.¡±


    ¡°Leave her alone guys. If she doesn''t want to smile, don''t force her to,¡± Sasha laughed. ¡°She¡¯s too good at death glares to quit now.¡±


    We continued on with the rest of the crew, making light conversation and trying to include Astrid in their discussion about a playlist of songs they could persuade Gabriel to sing once the tavern was finished. I glanced at Astrid, walking ahead of me on the left. For just a moment¡ªlike the melting of the first snowflake signaling spring¡ªa tiny smile flickered across her face before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.


    After clearing each dead end and exploring all the nooks of the floor, we looted one more chest and took down another swarm of harpies. Once we were ready, we moved toward the Cyclops.


    At the end of the maze, we found the Cyclops guarding the bridge that led to the iron doors to the next floor. As we approached, the Cyclops wasted no time scattering our formation with a powerful Cyclopean Beam which was blocked by Cade¡¯s shield abilities, forceful waves of red energy clashing against the light blue barrier.


    Alex was the first to charge forward. He must have leveled up since he practically blinked at the giant, closing the distance in an instant. With a cry, he unleashed a Holy Strike against the Cyclops¡¯s leg, his new weapon¡ªHadrelian¡¯s black Nodachi I¡¯d gifted him¡ªcarving deep into the flesh and nearly severing it at the knee.


    Two could play the game of Cyclopean Beam. Summoning my own, I aimed the crimson energy at the wound Alex had opened, drawing a line across the cut. The beam burned through the mangled joint, severing what remained and leaving the Cyclops one-legged, its roar of pain shaking the ground.


    As it sank to one knee, Bart launched a spinning war hammer into the Cyclops¡¯s eye, while Astrid lashed at its grip on the giant tree trunk it used as a club. It roared as they continued to strike, and I finished it off with an Acid Spit that left a crater in its bald pate.


    Together, all six converged on the fallen Cyclops, slashing, striking, and lashing on all sides until it no longer moved. What took several minutes, now took a minute.


    After looting the corpse and the final treasure chest¡ªa new set of bronze greaves, which we gave to Bart¡ªwe prepared to advance to Floor 5. Before descending, several of us foraged for dried wood to bring to the next level.


    As of now, we had no plan for how to proceed on Floor 5. The floor was a cave trapped in a blizzard, where we could barely take a step without the biting cold slowing us down. The fur cloaks and extra tunics we brought for insulation would be our first test to see if we could endure the conditions or if we¡¯d need to return better prepared. To be honest, I had little desire to push further for a while. Exploring just one floor at a time would keep us battle-ready, but all of us had our own priorities back in town. I, for one, had a tavern to finish.


    The moment we descended, the frigid air hit us like a truck. I knew this level would push us beyond just the dungeon itself. We had six months until the presumed winter would hit, and I hoped this world would behave differently, giving us a mild winter. It was late spring currently, and the weather so far had felt like a New York summer.


    Our party gathered the wood to build a campfire. Clattering teeth and hot steam rose from our bodies as I lit the fire with my Ring of Ignition and some tinder. We quickly regretted it, though, as black smoke filled our small cave, causing our eyes to water.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ this isn¡¯t for me. I¡¯m out,¡± Cade rasped, hacking violently as he shivered uncontrollably.


    ¡°Orion, we seriously need some parkas.¡± Sasha broke into fits of coughing before adding, ¡°How the hell are we going to get past this?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to prepare for winter sooner or later. I¡¯ll figure something out. You guys go back up. I¡¯ve got some stuff I want to do,¡± I said, placing my gloved hands between my armpits for warmth. As the group left for the surface, they left their fur cloaks with me.


    When they left, I wrapped myself in all the furs and set my glass jar of chilled cr¨¨me anglaise out in the snow. Then, I packed more snow over the cave entrance to block out the biting wind. Using Firewielder, I dimmed the flame of the campfire we¡¯d built inside the cave, reducing the smoke that filled the air.


    A few minutes later, I checked on the glass jar and began churning the cream by hand. I repeated the process over and over, my hands and feet growing numb from the cold, until I finally finished.


    Vanilla-Flavored Frozen Custard - C


    Frost and chill resistance up by 20% - 6 hours


    The flavor was nearly perfect¡ªrich, creamy, and smooth. The artificial vanilla was a bit off from real vanilla, but to anyone tasting it blindly, it would be indistinguishable. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed a cured elk stomach, unfurled it, and placed the finished ice cream inside, covering it with snow. My numb fingers slowly regained some sensation thanks to the new buff.


    With that done, I headed back up and urged Rudolph toward my nearly finished tavern.


    The workers were either resting or eating dinner. The first floor of the tavern was nearly complete, albeit bare, with only a few final touches left. Half the floor had been tiled, thanks to granite cut by Crag. Slate was currently working on the roof, laying down brown clay tiles. The chimney and the stone oven in the center of the tavern were still unfinished, and many of the furniture pieces were still missing. However, the bar¡ªmade of a long counter of red oak¡ªwas complete.


    In the corner of the building¡¯s foundation outside my tavern, a dirt stairway¡ªstill unstoned¡ªled down to my cellar. Inside, casks of wine lined the stone walls, which I had lent to Father Gallagher in exchange for a split of the tavern''s alcohol sales. A chunk of leftover ice from the caravan sat in a corner, now slightly melted, with water pooling around its base. I set the jar of ice cream into the hole I¡¯d dug in the large ice cube, carefully packing the remaining ice around it to keep it chilled.


    Hopefully, the ice cream would last another day.


    With all my chores done, I finally had time to read Sophie¡¯s letter. After unsealing it and reading it over, I rubbed my temple and let out a deep sigh.


    Great. Another thing to worry about.


    When everyone retired to the Mess Hall to eat or unwind, I went outside to fetch a piece of plank and decided to call it a day as well.


    My room was finished upstairs on the second floor. On the bottom floor, I let several of the Emancipated sleep. When I entered the tavern, I was startled to see three of them unknowingly praying to a Messiah they believed was in the sky, who happened to be standing nearby. That Messiah, Cass, was watching a match between two other Emancipated and teaching them how to play checkers.


    It seems he knows how to speak Lokan now.


    Sighing, I went upstairs to be left alone. In my room, I ignited a candle next to my furs and worked on carving a sign out of the plank until I was ready to sleep. Tomorrow I will paint it, but the raised lettering already showed plainly the title of my tavern: The Cup and Dagger.

 Chapter 87 - End of Act 2: Contact

    Chapter 87


    Bianca


    Day 77 of First Landing


    Population of Thornhill - 71


    Watching Crag, my quarry golem, ford the river was terrifying enough, but seeing him hoist a pink-blossomed tree straight from its roots was even more unnerving. In his massive flat hands, it looked like he was lifting a cotton candy stick. Nearby villagers stared in awe as he carefully planted it in the hole we had dug earlier by the main road.


    Looking down the road, the pink blossom trees lined up to create a scenic view, offering shade to anyone walking through our growing village. I knew I should have Crag finish digging out the sewer system, but the blossoms had begun to wilt, and I wanted the villagers to enjoy them while they could.


    Besides, today was special. I wanted the village to feel festive, even if the celebration only lived in my heart. Of course, I wasn¡¯t going to make a fuss. Stopping everything for my birthday would be vain. Instead, I settled for this quiet gift to myself¡ªmaking the village just a little more beautiful.


    The dungeon party had the day off, so I saddled Dasher and rode through town toward Orion¡¯s tavern to check on its progress. I needed Slate soon for our next big project: a glasswork. Wulfric, our glassmaker, had been eager to start, knowing it would open up new possibilities. Meanwhile, Sophie was asking around for tungsten so we could eventually produce lightbulbs. After the glassworks, we planned to tackle an even bigger project: a generator. At our last meeting, we debated whether to build a wind or water-powered one, but at least we had plenty of copper from the dungeon to handle the wiring.


    At the tavern, the Beastkin mercenaries laid clay tiles on the second roof. A large window, fitted with wooden shutters for now, sat open to let in the sun¡¯s light. Outside, a sign painted in red and blue read: "The Cup & Dagger." It was nailed to a plank next to the hitching post that Rudolph was tied to. Marek had designed the building to use natural elements for year-round comfort. In winter, the thick stone walls would soak up heat from the sun, keeping the interior warm. Opening the larger windows and relying on smaller openings would let cool breezes circulate inside in summer.


    The mercenary builders were putting the finishing touches on a central stone-and-brick oven that vented through a chimney. Above them, Slate was lying across the last tiles of the second floor. It had two small bedrooms and two empty guest rooms.


    In the back of the building, the Emancipated were helping Orion plant crops in the tavern¡¯s garden, while others sanded and oiled chairs.


    ¡°Rye, don¡¯t you think you¡¯re taking advantage of this whole ¡®savior¡¯ thing with the Emancipated?¡± I asked.


    ¡°If they want to lend a hand with my tavern, who am I to stop them?¡±


    ¡°You do realize how unfair this is, right? We have other buildings that still need finishing,¡± I said, crossing my arms and frowning.


    ¡°I know, I know. But didn¡¯t you say we shouldn¡¯t force the freed slaves to work against their will and let them make their own choices? They offered to help, and I wasn¡¯t about to refuse.¡± He gave another shrug as if to brush off the matter.


    I sighed. ¡°Fine, as long as they keep attending their English lessons. I¡¯ll have to assign Slate to another project, though. The second floor of the tenement needs a roof.¡±


    ¡°I should be fine now, thank you,¡± Orion replied.


    ¡°How¡¯s Astrid?¡± I asked.


    He frowned. ¡°I think it was a bad idea for me to talk to her. Pretty sure I made her even angrier.¡±


    ¡°Really? I thought you guys had that whole, you know¡­ soon-de-reh thing going on,¡± I said with a sheepish smile.


    Orion visibly cringed and quickly looked away, his face tinged with embarrassment at being associated with me.


    ¡°Astrid wears her heart on her sleeve,¡± he muttered, wiping his hand on a damp rag. Then, as if remembering something, he added, ¡°Oh, that reminds me. I¡¯ve got something for you.¡±


    Curious, I followed him down to the cellar. In one corner, broad palm leaves, acting as insulation, covered a block of melting ice. Orion carefully removed the leaves, revealing a glass jar embedded in the partially melted ice. The jar was filled with a creamy, buttery-colored substance. Handing it to me, he said, "Happy birthday."


    ¡°Wow¡­ thank you, Rye. How did you know it was my birthday?¡± I asked, my hands trembling slightly from the cold jar.


    ¡°What do you mean? We¡¯re friends.¡± He smiled, leaning casually against the cellar¡¯s chalk walls.


    ¡°Uh-huh. Sophie told you, didn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Sophie¡­ hmmm,¡± Orion mused, his tone mockingly thoughtful. ¡°Who¡¯s that again? Haven¡¯t seen a Sophie around in Thornhill that often. Are you sure you¡¯re not making people up?¡±


    ¡°You know¡ªthe one you keep sneaking glances at during council meetings when you think nobody is looking?¡±


    He didn¡¯t even flinch, just shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to figure out if they¡¯re real.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s gross.¡±


    He offered me a small spoon, his smirk widening. "I mean... her nose is suspiciously symmetrical."


    I rolled my eyes.


    "I hope you didn''t get swindled for this. Did you like seriously trade a horse for some ice cream ingredients? Please tell me you got more than just this from Sophie."


    "Oh, this? Just one of the many things she''s giving me," Orion replied with a sly grin. "The real price, though..." He let the words hang, raising an eyebrow. "Well, let''s just say it¡¯s... compromising. If you catch my drift."


    "Men are such pigs."


    "What?" he asked, feigning innocence. "I meant Super''s location. What exactly were you thinking about?" He leaned in, his infuriating smile widening.


    I slapped him on the arm before grabbing his spoon and digging into the jar.


    The first bite was pure magic¡ªcreamy, sweet, and utterly surreal. Ice cream. I couldn¡¯t believe he¡¯d made it. The rich vanilla melted on my tongue, and for a moment, the world disappeared. Cold as it was, it warmed me.


    A tear welled up, and I let it fall, not bothering to wipe it away. For an instant, I was back home, sitting on my couch with a pint of H?agen-Dazs, Netflix casting a soft glow in the background. That simple taste, this ice cream, felt like a thread pulling me back to a life I thought I¡¯d left behind.


    ¡°This is so yummy. I¡¯m so sorry, but I¡¯m going to demolish this entire jar,¡± I said, my words muffled by another mouthful of ice cream.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s yours. Go for it,¡± Orion replied. ¡°Just, uh¡­ if you could return the jar when you¡¯re done?¡±


    ¡°Oh my god, I feel like such a pig,¡± I laughed, covering my mouth, and turning away to finish off the rest. ¡°Don¡¯t look!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not judging,¡± he teased, though I caught him sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye.


    Half of it was gone before I wiped my mouth and asked, ¡°This must¡¯ve cost a fortune to put together. Where did you even find vanilla?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ do you like beavers?¡± he asked, completely out of nowhere.


    I blinked, unsure if he was joking. ¡°Yeah? They¡¯re adorable.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well¡­¡± He trailed off, looking suddenly uncomfortable.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s¡­?¡± I narrowed my eyes, suspicion creeping in.


    He shrugged, failing miserably to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.


    I glanced at the half-full jar, then shrugged too and polished off the back of my spoon with my tongue. ¡°Rye, I¡¯ve been so hungry out here I actually considered eating slugs. You¡¯re not going to freak me out.¡±


    His smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter devastation.


    Together we shared a moment before he spoke again and I spooned more ice cream in my mouth.


    ¡°How was your day?¡± He asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s been wonderful. Thanks for this.¡±


    Later, he invited me inside his tavern, and we sat together over tea. Orion brewed it in the teapot I¡¯d given him for his birthday, and we spent thirty quiet minutes talking about everything and nothing. Eventually, I had to excuse myself to handle my daily tasks. Before I left, I pulled Slate from its work in the tavern. Orion didn¡¯t seem to mind and even invited me back later for a mini pizza party.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    That night, after finishing my chores, mainly making new teapots for trade, I returned to Orion''s tavern. It was nearly complete, lacking only a few finishing touches. Though the building was roofed and bricked, the interior still felt barren. Four plain wooden tables were scattered across the room, a long bar stretched along one wall, and a solitary stone oven stood behind the bar. The walls were bare, begging for paintings or tapestries to bring life to the space. More furniture was needed¡ªchairs, stools, maybe a bench or two¡ªand the shelves behind the bar were empty, save for a single keg with no glass bottles in sight. At the heart of the tavern was a stone hearth that warmed the room, where people gathered, listening to Gabriel play music.


    The White Fang Legion had been dismissed, heading back to Kronfeldt for new orders from their captain. A handful of Emancipated lingered to help Orion place cups, arrange furniture, and sand down the new tables and chairs. Though half-furnished and sparsely decorated, the foundation was solid. I could already imagine the cozy hangout it would become.


    Behind the bar, Orion was firing up his brick oven while Cass served sweet tea to the small gathering. With the practiced hands of a seasoned pizzaiolo, Orion stretched out dough, smooth and confident. He spread a green marinara sauce¡ªsomething like pesto¡ªonto the dough, then shaved thin slices from a wedge of goat cheese, scattering them across the surface. Using a large wooden peel, he slid the pizza into the stone oven, watching as the cheese bubbled and the crust charred to perfection.


    The smell was heavenly, filling the air with warmth and comfort. Orion had invited the Emancipated who worked on his tavern and some of his dungeon companions to the party. They drank Father Gallagher¡¯s watered-down fruit wine and joined Gabriel in a lively rendition of ¡°Still Crazy After All These Years,¡± the sound of his guitar pulling everyone together.


    Each of us grabbed a slice as Orion churned out pizzas, two at a time. The Emancipated were awestruck by their first taste of pizza, while the rest of us were transported home by its familiar flavors. It was chewy, and crispy with a slight funk from the goat cheese, but I loved it. Eating Orion¡¯s cooking always felt like a taste of home.


    After the mini-party wound down, I found Orion tidying up, and washing his tools and cups. He¡¯d rigged a surprisingly clever water system, likely with Molvin or Marek¡¯s help. A wooden tank, perched on sturdy supports, fed water through a siphon from the nearby moat. Gravity did the rest, funneling it into a trough and through a hose, all controlled by a simple wooden valve. With a turn, water flowed steadily, making cleanup remarkably easy.


    ¡°Thanks for inviting me,¡± I said. ¡°Even though I didn¡¯t help much with the tavern.¡±


    ¡°You sent Slate and Crag¡ªthat was more than enough,¡± Orion replied with a smile, scrubbing his wooden peel before dumping the wash water back toward a drain.


    I stretched, letting out a tired yawn.


    ¡°Busy day?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve been making more teapots and overseeing the groundwork for the glasswork,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re setting up the glasswork next to the smithy, and I need to prepare a manifest for what Wulfric needs. After that, I attended James'' Lokan class.¡±


    ¡°Lokan, huh? Good idea. The whole village should probably learn it. But James is heading to Kronfeldt soon, so you might need to find another teacher. Ask Cameron.¡±


    ¡°Figures, James and Sophie already leaving me here to deal with you on my own,¡± I said, sighing.


    After a pause, Orion looked over. ¡°Since you¡¯re learning Lokan, how about coming to Kronfeldt with me?¡±


    ¡°Kronfeldt? You¡¯re going back already?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah, though not right away. Lumindawn¡¯s in a few weeks. Thought it might be fun to check it out.¡±


    I sighed, torn. ¡°Rye, I¡¯ve got too much going on here. I can¡¯t just disappear for a few days.¡± The idea was tempting, but I couldn¡¯t afford to leave with responsibilities piling up.


    Orion shook his head. ¡°You need a break. The village will survive. Trust me, I thought the same when I left, like everything would fall apart the second I stepped away. But it didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± I said. ¡°As soon as you left, a thief helped the enemy find us.¡±


    ¡°Even if Super had shown his true colors while I was still here, it wouldn¡¯t have changed much. I¡¯d have pushed for his exile, and the Red Scythe was going to find us sooner or later,¡± Orion said with a shrug.


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± I replied, wanting to say more, but Orion¡¯s gaze shifted behind me.


    ¡°Jim,¡± Orion called, ¡°you¡¯re late. You missed the pizza party.¡±


    ¡°A bloody shame,¡± James said, strolling up the path with a wave. ¡°I was busy prying details out of Cameron and some of the locals.¡±


    ¡°Did you read Sophie¡¯s letter?¡± Orion asked.


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s¡­ rather eventful, but there might be opportunities in it.¡±


    ¡°Sophie¡¯s letter?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡±


    ¡°We should sit down and talk,¡± James said, his tone serious, before he glanced me over and smiled fiendishly. ¡°Oh my... you look quite lovely this evening, my beautiful mayor. Special occasion?¡±


    I''m glad one person noticed I tried to fix myself up.


    The tavern was quiet now, save for Alex, Cade, and Sasha in the corner, laughing drunkenly over a card game. Orion poured us mugs of spice, watered-down wine. James sank into a seat, tossing a folded parchment onto the table. I picked it up, unfolding it with curiosity, but the contents didn¡¯t immediately make sense to me. A lot of names I didn''t recognize.


    ¡°It¡¯s as I expected,¡± James said, sipping from his mug. ¡°Duke Aulric won¡¯t be with us much longer.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Duke Aulric?¡± I asked.


    ¡°My time with the Red Scythe has taught me a lot about the land and its rulers. As you know, we¡¯re part of a larger kingdom,¡± James explained. ¡°Technically, this land falls under the Duchy of the Southern Crown, which Duke Aulric governs.¡±


    ¡°So, does that mean we owe him allegiance?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ yes and no. He and the Southern Crown¡¯s nobles don¡¯t know about us. For now, we¡¯ve managed to remain independent, like a micronation. But once they discover us¡ªand believe me, it¡¯s only a matter of time¡ªthey¡¯ll assert their claims. They¡¯ll demand loyalty, taxes, and military service. And they¡¯ll demand you, as the acting leader of this village, to bend the knee to Duke Aulric.¡±


    ¡°But isn¡¯t this Duke Aulric guy dying?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but regardless of who holds the seat of the Duchy of the Southern Crown, they¡¯ll expect us to bend the knee,¡± James replied.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be part of this... Duchy thing¡ªor their kingdom,¡± I said, frustration rising in my voice. ¡°Can¡¯t we just be independent, James?¡±


    ¡°Well... not really,¡± he said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Orion and I have discussed it, and it might be in our best interest to fold ourselves into the Azure Reach Duchies. Right now, they act as a buffer against those who¡¯d send legions to enslave all of us.¡±


    ¡°But they let us get attacked by slavers!¡± I snapped, the memory of the raid stinging. ¡°They did nothing to help us. Why should we pay taxes or send villagers to fight for them when they won¡¯t even protect us? No taxation without representation.¡±


    James let out an exasperated breath. ¡°I understand. It¡¯s complicated, but if we¡¯re in their fold, any attack on us becomes an attack on them. That¡¯s the leverage we need. Seraphina is the only one keeping the Emperor and his Eldrins at bay. If we declare independence, not only will Auriel come for us, but so will whoever takes over the Southern Crown Duchy. And let¡¯s not forget the pirate isles, the free states, and the other nations. We¡¯d be easy pickings.¡±


    I rubbed my temples, the weight of it all pressing down on me. Why can¡¯t we just be left alone? Why does everyone seem to want this place in particular?


    Whenever I felt lost, I knew where to turn. ¡°Rye, what do you think?¡± I asked, looking to Orion.


    He paused, frowning as he chose his words carefully. ¡°There¡¯s a way for us to survive, but I agree with James. We¡¯ll need to ally with the Southern Crown Duchy... and yes, come to some kind of military pact. But we can plead for some form of autonomy¡ªmaybe negotiate a small tribute.¡±


    ¡°How would we even get them to agree to that?¡± I asked.


    Orion leaned back, folding his arms. ¡°We support the right side in the fight for the duchy. James and Sophie can make diplomatic moves to align us with a candidate, ideally, one who¡¯s a long shot but might owe us favors for our support. If they win, we get favorable terms.¡±


    ¡°A fight for the duchy¡± I repeated, incredulous. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t this... Queen Seraphina, or whatever, just appoint a new Duke?¡±


    James chuckled dryly, his tone tinged with bitterness. ¡°Seraphina, or the so-called Immortal Phoenix Queen, doesn¡¯t operate like that. She¡¯s... indifferent to the governance of her kingdom, to put it mildly. From what I¡¯ve gathered, her only real interests are her harem, throwing lavish banquets, and her dungeon. She lets the Dukes and her countless descendants manage the kingdom for her. As a result, whenever one of them dies, things get... violent.¡±


    ¡°Violent how?¡± I asked, even though I had a sinking feeling I already knew the answer.


    ¡°Infighting, assassinations, proxy wars¡ªwhatever it takes to secure the seat,¡± James said grimly. ¡°It¡¯s not pretty, but that¡¯s how it works. And we¡¯ll have to pick a side before the dust settles if we want to take advantage.¡±


    ¡°So you want us to get involved in the fight over Duke Aelric¡¯s seat? Like... drag us into a civil war?¡± I asked, disbelief clear in my voice.


    ¡°Not drag¡ªsupport,¡± James corrected, though his frown suggested even he wasn¡¯t entirely comfortable with the idea. ¡°Economically and technologically. We won¡¯t be sending villagers to the frontlines, but Sophie¡¯s already leveraging our crops and trade goods. She¡¯s using Thornhill¡¯s treasury to hire mercenaries. And don¡¯t forget, we control the iron mines in Kronfeldt. That¡¯s a resource every contender would kill for.¡±


    ¡°How long do we have?¡±


    James leaned back, thoughtful. ¡°By the end of winter, I¡¯d say. If the Duke lasts a few more months, no one will make moves during the snow. It¡¯ll also give Lady Evilith time to come of age.¡±


    ¡°So... we¡¯ll be fighting against this Lady Evilith?¡± I asked, trying to follow his logic.


    ¡°No,¡± James said, shaking his head. ¡°We¡¯ll back her. She¡¯s the rightful heir but in a weak position. Her uncles are circling like vultures. She¡¯s got barely any backing¡ªjust two mercenary companies and no standing army to speak of. The only thing keeping her afloat is the Mayor of Kronfeldt¡¯s support.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°And what should we do until then?¡±


    ¡°I need to head to Kronfeldt soon to establish some contacts,¡± James replied. ¡°Right now, Orion and I have made a plan to infiltrate the Southern Crown nobility using my skinchanging abilities. We don¡¯t have to act immediately, but this is a path we need to consider as we move forward.¡±


    ¡°We should focus on the harvest first,¡± Orion interjected, his fingers tapping impatiently on the oak table. ¡°Make sure no one starves or freezes this winter. This is just one potential path, but eventually, we won¡¯t be able to keep Thornhill a secret¡ªespecially with a civil war brewing right in our backyard.¡±


    I hesitated, still unsure. ¡°Can we even help her? I mean... no offense, but we¡¯re just a small village. How could we turn the tide, even with gold?¡±


    James¡¯s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. ¡°Don¡¯t sell us short, Bianca. We¡¯re more than just manpower. Technology, supply chains, production know-how¡ªthose are game-changers. I¡¯m not saying we hand over our trebuchets, but imagine her army armed with rations, antibiotics, or Thornhill-forged weapons.¡±


    He turned to Orion with a sly grin. ¡°And let¡¯s not forget, we¡¯ve got the Stalker of the Azure Reach himself. A living legend. If things get bad, I¡¯d bet Orion could slip a knife into the right back and end this war before it starts.¡±


    Orion exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. ¡°Jim, I¡¯d rather stay out of this entirely. I¡¯ll fight for Thornhill, no question, but I couldn¡¯t care less who sits on the Southern Crown¡¯s ducal seat. Let Sophie¡¯s mercenaries do the fighting.¡±


    James stepped closer and gave Orion a firm pat on the shoulder, his grin turning vengeful. ¡°Ah, but you know better than that, lad. If Thornhill wants to stay safe, Evilith has to win. We¡¯ve all got our roles to play. You¡¯ve got your skills, I¡¯ve got mine, and like it or not, we¡¯re in this together.¡±


    The tavern keeper, cook, and Stalker of the Azure Reach let out a deep groan.